


Project: Дракон (Dragon)

by M_A_C



Series: The Last Valyrian [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath & Recovery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Daenerys targaryen inspired, Dragon Dynamics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Endgame didn't happen, F/M, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Irondad, Kidnapping, Mind Control, Multi, Peter Parker is 18, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sokovia Accords, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Uncle Happy, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vigilantism, Wingfic, Wings, baby!Morgan, infinity war didn't happen, spiderson, winged people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_A_C/pseuds/M_A_C
Summary: Peter Parker was unaware of just how weird his life was about to become. After a tiny bit of domestic terrorism (and really, it wasn’t like he actively participated), he comes across an object he is all too excited to claim as an alien U.F.O.ORDr. List, one of HYDRA’s top scientists, has developed Project: Дракон. After Sokovia, List stumbled upon the weapon while inspecting an abandoned HYDRA facility. Within it, he found a pod HYDRA believed to have come from an advanced alien race that crash landed on Earth long ago. Now, List has found the answer to his life’s work  – a Valyrian child in a cryogenic stasis.Valyrians are an ancient race, once thought to be extinct throughout the Universe, whose ancestors descend from what Midgardians have come to know as “Dragons”. By combining Chitauri tech, a bastardized version of Zola's serum, and an improved formula of the “Extremis Virus,” List seeks to turn myth into legend. The basic genetic building blocks were there, they only need a little encouragement to reach their full potential.





	1. Domestic Terrorism and U.F.Os

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Introduction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054021) by [Tilltheendwilliwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite). 



Peter Parker, sitting high on a rooftop overlooking Queens, was unaware of just how weird his life was about to become.

While out as Spider-Man, he tries to keep all his focus centered on the job. Quickest way to get hurt, or worse, was to become distracted. However, he was also juggling  an upcoming AP Calculus BC test, so crime fighting was taking a little bit of a backseat for the night as he worked on differential and integral calculations. That didn’t mean he was ignoring the city, he just had Karen sifting through police dispatch for any crimes that needed their attention. Any crime occurring where police were nearby, Karen would reroute them to intercept.

“Damn it,” Peter murmured around the pencil eraser he had been frustratedly gnawing on.

He’s been stuck on the same problem for the past hour, taking a short break to wait with a really nice, yet slightly tipsy, lady until her Uber arrived. Karen had alerted him to the two men that had been tailing her for the last two blocks. As soon as he showed up, the two men stopped and backtracked the opposite way. Just to be safe, Peter asked Karen to run facial recognition for any criminal records. When nothing came up, she informed him that she would be monitoring their activity for the rest of the night. Their credit card and cell phone GPS records indicated that they’d spent the better part of the night bar-hopping the borough. That was no excuse (never, ever would it be), but it helped Karen keep an eye on things.

“ _What’s wrong, Peter_?” Karen’s disembodied voice asked kindly.

“This stupid math problem. I know I’m doing something wrong, but I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“ _Would you like some assistance?”_

“What? Like cheating?” It was pushing eleven o’clock, and this was the only problem he had left to figure out before first period tomorrow morning. His brain was fried enough to actually consider it.

“ _I would not classify it as cheating, no,”_ Karen replied slowly. “ _Simply assistance in solving a complicated problem so you may return to your patrol.”_

He sighed in frustration and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Okay, okay, just….just tell me _where_ I’m screwing up.”

“ _Alright, Peter,_ ” Karen chirped happily. Through the Spider-Man sensors, Karen scanned the work page in a matter of seconds. When she was done, she highlighted a section of the worksheet and enlarged it.

It took Peter only a moment to spot where everything had gone wrong. He groaned and tapped his pencil against the ledge of the building in annoyance as he shook his head.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” He muttered repeatedly underneath his breath.

“ _What is, Peter_?” Karen asked, confused. Had she not isolated the misplaced decimal in his faulty equation?

“I am, apparently.” He grumbled and rolled his eyes as he aggressively scratched out his previous incorrect work until he got to where he initially screwed up. As he was reaching into his backpack to pull out a fresh sheet of notebook paper, an alarm within the suit went off.

Peter jumped straight into the air, clutching his chest as his heart frantically beat against it, his papers getting tossed behind him onto the roof and scattering in the light breeze. He landed on the balls of his feet on the ledge of the building, swiveling his head left and right, sweeping the streets beneath him, only to find nothing about. His Spidey-Senses hadn’t alerted him to anything……

“Peter,” Karen called out urgently. “Incoming message from-”

Before she had the chance to finish, Tony Stark was projecting a video feed through Peter’s mask. It only showed Mr. Stark’s face – slightly banged up with a slowly bleeding cut above his left eye – in a dark, enclosed space with minimal electronic blue light showing flashing periodically. Coupled with the sounds of distant gunfire and small explosions, he was in his Iron Man suit and, apparently, in the middle of a fight.

“ _Kid_!” Mr. Stark shouted. His eyes were scanning left and right, not necessarily looking ahead at Peter’s image most likely projected on his own screen. “ _I need –_ fuck _– Bird brains! Those wings just decorative?!”_

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. His adrenaline spiked as he watched Tony jerk to the left, obviously pulling some G-forces by the squished, pained look on his face. “Mr. Stark, what’s going on?”

“ _Mission at a HYDRA facility across the border. Some Zamboni driver with the Maple Mounties musta tipped them off we were coming –_ fucking hell _!”_

Tony jerk back, his image appeared to be rolling around. When he came to a stop, he closed his eyes and groaned. Through the comm link, Peter could hear F.R.I.D.A.Y saying,

“ _Multiple contusions detected, Boss_.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” he wheezed, picking himself back up and letting out a pained sigh. “ _I detected that, too_.”

“Do you need me in Canada?!” Peter asked excitedly. He was already packing his bookbag up, webbing his scattered paper back to him rather than chasing them around the roof. His adrenaline was already racing and could swing himself to the airport if Mr. Stark needed him to, only he didn’t know if it would be faster to take the private plane or maybe a helicopter or –

“ _No_!” Tony shouted. He looked Peter squarely in the eyes and reiterated forcefully. “ _No_.”

Peter came to an abrupt stop. He felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him and he floundered. Had he read this completely wrong? What was he supposed to say? Why was Tony calling him, in the middle of a HYDRA battle, if he didn’t want Spider-Man’s help?

“Then why-”

“Shit!” Tony dodged more gunfire. He appeared to be running and shooting blasters as he split his focus between the battle and Peter. “ _Just – Just get to Coney Island! Wanda –_ shit _– she’ll met you there!”_

The image of Tony’s face disappeared from Peter’s view. Redundantly, Karen added, _“Mr. Stark has disconnected the call.”_

“What the hell does Mr. Stark want me to do in Coney Island?” Peter wondered as he webbed his bookbag to the brick wall behind him.

_“Perhaps Ms. Maximoff will provide more details once we arrive, Peter.”_ Karen added. “ _In the meantime, I’ve plotted a course for you to take. Estimated arrival time is thirty minutes_.”

Peter swung his way between buildings until he came to the Belt Parkway. From there, Karen told him which trucks, vans, and semis to hop to and from. Having nothing else to do but sit atop a commercial refrigerated truck, Peter thought about what would be waiting for him at Coney Island. Karen hasn’t reported anything out of the ordinary happening, no irregular activities or energy signatures.

If there wasn’t any trouble already there, did that mean it was on its way?

He hopped off the truck and onto a van that was turning onto Ocean Drive. As he got closer to the iconic Ferris wheel, Karen alerted him to an incoming call from Wanda.

“Wanda!” Peter shouted, hopping off the van as it approached the boardwalk. “What’s going on? Mr. Stark called-”

_“Yes, I know. I will explain everything when you get to the beach. Vis and I are across from the Ferris wheel. Please hurry, little spider, there is not much time.”_

“Time? Time for what?”

_“We are going to bring down a plane, Peter.”_

The comm-link clicked, and Karen informed him Wanda had ended the call.

“Wh-What?!” Peter shouted, drawing the eyes of the already curious bystanders that had been slowing down to stare at him as they passed or stopped altogether to take photos. He chuckled nervously and awkwardly waved to the small crowd as he walked backwards to the boardwalk’s ledge. “Sorry about that, guys. Uh, super-hero stuff, you know? Gotta go!”

With that lame excuse, he fell back over the ledge and landed on his feet in the sand. As soft as it looked from above, it was harder on impact. Further down the beach, Karen located Vision and Wanda standing close to the water, watching the skies above them.

“Alright Karen,” Peter sighed, picking up his pace from a walk to a jog as he made his way to the pair. “Let’s go bring down a plane.”

_“Sounds fun, Peter. I like trying new things.”_

* * *

Peter couldn’t help but think of the last time he was at Coney Island, fighting The Vulture….Mr. Toomes…Liz’s dad….? A couple years later and he was still trying to wrap his head around that one. Ironically enough that mission, too, involved bringing down an airplane (although hopefully with Wanda here there’ll be a whole lot less wreckage and fire – we’ll see about that). Peter highly doubted Mr. Toomes was involved in this one, considering he is currently serving a life sentence in a maximum-security federal prison somewhere. And, granted, on the “Bad Guy Scale”, The Vulture didn’t rank quite as high as HYDRA terrorist. Maybe on the “Nightmare Fuel Scale”, but hey that’s different for everyone.

Ned’s understandably includes pogo-sticks.

“Mr. Parker,” Vision greeted him as he approached, not looking away from the night sky. Wanda, however, did turn to him and offer a small smile.

“I don’t think I heard you right, back there,” Peter threw his thumb over his shoulder indicating the boardwalk. “We’re bringing down a plane?”

“You heard correctly,” Vision offered in his gentle, monotone way.

He looked between Wanda and Vision for further explanation. When none came, he all but threw his whole body into his eye roll. “Aaaaaand? You can’t just say something bordering domestic terrorism and not follow up on it!”

“Vision, how long till they are in position?” Wanda asked, looking up into the clear, inky black sky. The light pollution of the city obscured any twinkling lights there might have been.

“Approximately five minutes if they stick to their flight plan.”

Wanda nodded and turned to Peter. “SHEILD has been tracking a top scientist for HYDRA - Dr. List - since he fled from Sokovia along with all of his research.”

Peter nodded. While Midtown provided excellent ‘History of Science’ classes, including many of modern geniuses in their fields, Peter’s learned more from reading mission reports he may, or may-not-have “borrowed” from SHEILD servers at the Avengers Compound. It isn’t his fault that the collapsed super-intelligence didn’t have better on-site security and just so happened to stumble upon while “exploring” during one of his weekend visits. Those files are waaay more accurate and entertaining than anything Mrs. Diaz has to offer in class.

“Yeah, Dr. List’s the guy who-” Peter awkwardly mimed Wanda’s hand motions, “with the energy from Mr. Loki’s Chitauri scepter. He worked for this big-wig HYDRA guy – Sticker, or something? – until Ultron killed him while he was in NATO custody.”

Wanda looked momentarily taken aback by the level of knowledge Peter had and should not have known in detail. She had expected him to, at the very least, have a vague recollection of the man from media coverage of Sokovia – not that the new ever got anything right when it came to mass tragedies such as that.

“Uh, yes, well,” She blinked a couple times trying to get back on track. “List has been working on a new project. Apparently, he has been successful and word has spread of a new weapon he has developed for HYDRA. Since that the Winter Soldier Program is no longer operational, they are most eager to use whatever it is. Steve, Natasha, and Bucky were to infiltrate the compound and retrieve the weapon and detain List while Tony, Sam, and Rodney provided air support. It seems the facility received a heads-up in advance of the team’s arrival. List, the weapon, and all of his research managed to escape, but not before Sam managed to attach a tracker. Based on its current flight path, it will be over Coney Island in a matter of minutes.”

“So we’re bringing it down? How? I mean – yeah, I’ve done it once before, but that was a total mistake. And really, it wasn’t even my fault! Plus, there aren’t any buildings for me to sling from-”

“That will not be necessary, Mr. Parker.” Vision told him, finally looking away from the sky. “Your job is to detain Dr. List and his associates and collect any and all information he will be carrying with him. Securing that weapon is our highest priority.”

Sufficiently explaining the plan, at least to Vision’s standards, the android braced himself before pushing off the sand and taking flight. Wanda and Peter watched from below as he hovered in the air high above the ocean.

“What’s he doing?”

“Vis will stop the plane while I create a controlled decent.” Wanda rolled her shoulder and flexed her fingers while looking out over the horizon right of the city. It wouldn’t be long now before the plane crossed over them. “From there, we will be able to extract List and the weapon.”

“ _I have visual on the plane_ ,” Vision announced over the comm-link Karen had patched Peter into. “ _Preparing for intercept_.”

Vision flew out to meet the plane. The plan was for him to phase through the cockpit and disable their mechanics; however, two loud explosions emanated from the plane in rapid succession just before both of the plane’s engines erupted into balls of fire.

“ _Pilot initiated some sort of automated detonation_ ,” Vision reported. “ _There is significant damage to the hull of the plane.”_

As air pressure inside the cabin shifted, alarms were activated allowing Peter and Wanda to see red signal lights flashing through the windows and the breached body of the plane. The plane was quickly losing altitude, causing it to shift direction and head for the city.

Wanda swore under her breath as she took up her position and her irises began to glow dark red. She flung her hands out to create the scarlet glow she was known for and sent out mist-like tendrils of energy. While the media like to call her powers “chaotic and unrefined,” Peter thought she did a damn good job taking control of the enormous ball of fire that was heading for the boardwalk. While she could take control of the plane’s wings, she couldn’t split her focus to control the spreading of the fire from the engines to the rest of the plane.

Coupled with the extreme heat from the fire and initial damage to the hull, the tail-end of the plane broke off and crashed into the beach first, its contents scattering down the length of the beach while the end became embedded into the sand.

“Peter!” Wanda shouted, her hands shaking as she forcefully guided the burning plane away from the boardwalk. “The weapon!”

“On it!” Peter shouted back, shooting her a thumbs up as he turned on his heel and jogged down the beach. Behind him, he heard the plane crash-land onto the beach, narrowly missing the water, and felt the deep rumble of the impact up through his legs. He almost lost his balance, but only wobbled a little as he kept going.

Like in Lagos, Wanda managed to control the spread of the fire by funneling it up into the sky – a solar flare meets macabre tornado. Vision passed by Peter overhead as he made his way to the front section’s wreckage to help Wanda. While she was focused on the fire, he would phase through and extract List and any HYDRA soldiers that survived the crash.

Meanwhile, Peter struggled a bit as he ran through various flaming objects, the dense smoke clouding his vision.

“Karen-”

“ _Already making adjustments, Peter_.” A second later, Karen had switched his viewscreen to filter out the blinding heat signatures and made his path clear.

“Oh, thank you,” Peter breathed out. He could already feel a tension headache coming on; the last thing he needed was a sensory overload in the middle of a mission. Those could always wait until later when he was curled into a very tight ball beneath a soft, yet heavy blanket with bulky. Noise-cancelling earphones to keep the city tuned out.

“ _No problem.”_

“Any idea what we’re looking for?” All around him, crates and various machines were littered around the beach. Papers fluttered in the breeze, their edges catching and smoldering.

“ _I am not certain. Perhaps anything weapon-like in construction_?”

Peter fought to keep his groan of annoyance contained but couldn’t help the eye-roll. Having an A.I learn to be just as sarcastic as you are was a definite drawback at times – like right now. He was about to retort, opening his mouth only to audibly snap it close when he turned the corner of a flaming bulkhead.

 “Uh….Karen? I-I think we found it. Or, _something_ , I guess.” Peter muttered beneath his breath in a sing-song manner as he approached the…. _object_ , “One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn’t belong. Can you tell which one-”

“ _Yes, Peter, I can,”_ Karen interrupted him. “ _Why are you singing?_ ”

“I’m not – it’s Sesame Street – ugh, _nevermind_ ,” Peter hastily covered. “Just alert the team I found something; I don’t know if it’s the weapon List was talking about, but nothing else around here looks like it, either.”

Peter stood back from the…. _object_. He wasn’t sure what else to call it. It was a dark, egg-shaped pod encased within a structure shaped like a pentagon but with an elongated point like that of a dagger. It couldn’t have been more than eight feet in length, and the pod itself was half the size and in the center of the casing.   

 “Switch to x-ray vision.”

Although the surrounding area became a spectrum of blue, white, and black, Peter still couldn’t see through whatever dense material the pod was made out of.

“Karen, are you malfunctioning?”

“ _No, Peter,”_ the A.I replied, sounded a tad miffed at the implication. “ _I am operating at optimal levels. I am, however, unfamiliar with its construction and cannot calculate what is needed to see through it.”_

“How is that possible? You know, like, every element there is!” While Peter won’t condone cheating, he isn’t averse to having Karen be his fill-in study-buddy when Ned isn’t available. Especially before tests, Peter would find himself swinging through Queens while on patrol, reciting various elemental constructions and makeups as Karen quizzed him.

_“Precisely, Peter_.”

“So that means,” Peter talked himself through it slowly, his mind conjuring up theories too fast to properly think through. “That means this…this thing – this pod – is from _outer space_ , right? This is a legit U.F.O!”

Peter was yelling in excitement, practically vibrating as he hopped from one foot to the next. The mission at hand seemed to be forgotten for the moment as he thought off all the cool things he could be able to do – open the pod and see an actual alien? Not that he hasn’t met a couple of them before, but still, it was always a cool experience. Maybe backwards engineer a spaceship with Mr. Stark using the pod’s design? Does is have light speed? Maybe it wasn’t even a ship, maybe it was an escape pod? That option seemed more likely given no outward appearance of anything remotely capable of flight besides the basic design –

“ _Perhaps_ ,” Karen cautioned him. Her internal monitors allowed her to see how much Peter was working himself up over the possibility. “ _It is just as likely Dr. List built the pod in combination with scavenged Chitauri materials. That has been his M.O in the past. In doing so, he could have created a new element, not unlike Mr. Stark has done_.”

“Oh, come on, Karen! Do you _really_ think List is as smart as Mr. Stark? Seriously?”

Karen was quiet for a moment before hesitantly replying, “ _I do not_.”

“So our leading theory is…” Peter lead her on, desperately wanting her to say the words he knew she did not want to.

“ _This is,”_ she began slowly, “ _an unidentified flying object of_ possible _extraterrestrial origin. Further-_ ”

He clapped his hands in a self-congratulatory high-five and fist pumped the air. “You said it’s an alien U.F.O!”

“ _Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner will want to run tests before determining its purpose, Peter. You should not be getting ahead of yourself_.”

“Karen, just look at it!” Peter stepped closer to the pod to examine the rusted red, scale-like shell of the pod that appears to have been charred. “That kind of damage _has_ to be from atmospheric re-entry! _No way_ that was made in the crash; the fire doesn’t burn that hot.”

“ _The scorching is not unlike the Orion’s heat shield_ ,” Karen hedged, referring to the photo’s NASA published in 2014.

“Oh, please,” Peter huffed. “They’re totally the same.”

_“We can agree to disagree_.”

“Fine, but I’m totally right about this one, Kare.”

“ _If you say so, Peter_.” Peter moved his mouth silently in mock protest, mimicking her words. “ _I saw that.”_

Peter chuckled as he scanned the rest of the area. The pod, or whatever it is was, was secured and giving off nothing alarming at the moment; List’s various machines and such were scattered along the beach but not going anywhere; and Vision had List and another Hyrda soldier detained while Wanda put out the fires. In the distance, Peter heard rather than saw SHEILD’s approach from further up the beach. It wouldn’t be long now before everything was packed up and shipped off for analysis. He was just hoping he’d get to at least tag along with the spaceship-pod-thing.

“ _FRIDAY would like me to inform you the Quinjet with Mr. Stark and the others will be arriving in several minutes.”_

“Why can’t Mr. Stark call me himself?”

“ _Comms were damaged in the battle_.” Before Peter could ask his next question, Karen quickly added, “ _FRIDAY is reporting that medical has not been contacted and that there were no significant injuries on our end.”_

Peter let out a breath of air. “Thanks, Karen.”

“ _You’re welcome, Peter_.”


	2. Agent Asshole and Superhero Bedtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter guards the 0-8-4 from Agent Asshole of SHIELD and is swiftly directed to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping the be updating every Friday!

SHIELD flooded the beach with a small army of agents and technicians. Peter watched as an overly armed STRIKE team surrounded Dr. List and the two HYDRA goons that survived the crash. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere with the handfuls of broken bones between them. Agents who weren’t detaining the prisoners or getting a quick run-down of what happened from Wanda and Vision were either putting out fires, so that the technicians could collect debris and the various paperwork scattered along the beach, or giving Peter a hard time.  

“And I’m telling _you,_ Mr. I-wear-sunglasses-when-it’s-dark-outside, that no one touches this thing until Mr. Stark gives the go-ahead.”

The Men in Black cliché had arrogantly swaggered onto the scene, barking orders at no one in particular, before spotting the quarantine zone around the ‘asset’ Spider-Man had set up per Dr. Banner’s request. Until Mr. Stark and the team landed and assessed what exactly List was transporting, no one was to touch the thing.

The agent was tall and broad-shouldered and probably thought he could muscle his way in to take charge through intimidation. Too bad his bushy caterpillar eyebrows and receding hairline took away from his peacocking.

“Listen, Spider-Boy-”

“Spider- _Man_ -”

“-SHIELD has jurisdiction over any and all HYDRA activities.”

“Says who?”

“Says-” Agent Asshole sputtered in indignation. “Says the _name._ Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division!”

“Impressive you memorized all that, but since that ‘H’ doesn’t stand for ‘ _HYDRA’_ I think you missed your own point.”

“We are a counter-terrorism and intelligence agency. We had the intelligence on List and we countered his terrorism for the sake of both national and global security! That… _thing_ is ours.”

“I am so sorry, sir. Excuse me, Mr. One-Man-Band. I didn’t know, sir.” Peter snapped his heels together and slapped the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. “It’s an honor, sir. Great work tonight, by the way. Truly, spectacular job-”

“Why you little-” The agent ground his teeth together. A sharp tingle of awareness raced up Peter’s spine as the agent unbuttoned his suit jacket. He pulled it back with one hand while reaching across his gut for his hip-holstered gun with the other.

“Hey!” Peter shot out his hand and webbed the agent’s to his holster. “Now that’s just rude.” 

Something close to anger flashed across the agent’s face before it hardened. He opened his mouth to yell something, a vein visibly pulsing in his forehead, but Peter’s hand was faster and webbed it shut. The agent’s hand flew to his face, stunned, and began scrambling to claw it off. Too bad the binding agent would last a couple hours.

Peter took the moment of brief silence to let his senses calm down from the heady combination of noxious jet fuel, thick smoke coming from the dying fires, and sea water that stank of dead fish. A change in the wind brushed over a small sliver of exposed skin on the back of his neck, causing the hairs to stick up. He turned his back on the brave technician trying to help Agent Asshole to watch the incoming lights from the distance.

The Quinjet momentarily hovered overhead before parking not far from the wreckage. The cargo bay doors open and the team sauntered off – Tony’s more of a lazy swagger and Bucky’s bordering on his media trademarked ‘murder strut’.

“Underoos!” Tony called out.

While everyone else was in some dressed down form of their mission gear, Tony looked to be wearing a casual black jogging suit, his detachable arc reactor of his undersuit peeking out from the half-zipped hoodie. If Peter didn’t help Tony keep up on his suit maintenance and making a few tweaks here and there, he would have never suspected the Mark L’s (50’s) nanotech capabilities.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam walked past Peter on their way to Wanda and Vision, but not before casting a weary glance towards the pod. That they made sure to give a wide berth. Bucky’s seen many strange things in his years – during and after HYDRA – so seeing a small pod craft didn’t really phase him. Now, a talking bi-pedal raccoon with a propensity to barter for prosthetics and hearing aids….that took a while to get used to.

Steve stopped long enough to clap his hand on Peter’s shoulder and offer him a smile. “Good job tonight, Spider-Man.”

Never quite sure how to take a sincere compliment, he gave a small tight-lipped smile Steve couldn’t see underneath the mask and a two fingered salute. Bucky chuckled and Sam lightly punched Peter’s arm.

Nat and Tony flanked either side of Peter while Rodney circled the craft. Putting on his ‘press smile,’ as Pepper liked to call it, Tony slowly took off his blue-tinted lens that doubled as a Heads-Up Display (HUD) that kept him connected to FRIDAY. The smile didn’t reach his crow’s feet and hadn’t softened the cool indifference in his eyes as Tony looked on at the struggling agent.

“Eyebrows,” Tony greeted coolly. “Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into a sticky situation.”

“Put his hand where it shouldn’t belong,” Nat commented, raising a slender eyebrow at the hand webbed to his holstered gun. Peter was half convinced even those were lethal.

The agent was mumbling rapidly beneath the webbing, gesturing wildly with his available free hand. Tony kept him pinned with a cool glare and waved his glasses at him, speaking to the technician off to the side, “Get him out of here.”

“Bye Mr. Asshole, Agent Trigger-Finger, sir!” Peter cheerfully waved as the agent stormed off with a trail of twittering technicians behind him.

“How’d you piss this one off, kid?” Rodney asked making his way over.

While the War Machine armor hadn’t been upgraded to nanotech _just_ yet – despite the fervent pleas and begging on both Peter and Tony’s part – Col. Rhodes was wearing a similar undersuit to that of Tony’s, although pairing it with a navy blue windbreaker with the white US Air Force insignia on the back and his name and rank stitched in black on the left breast. 

“Oh, you know,” Peter shrugged. “The usual.”

Tony snorted. “What? Opened your mouth?”

“Hey now, Mr. Stark!” Peter took mock offense, placing his hand over his wounded heart. “It’s not my fault the guy’s an asshole-”

Nat lightly slapped Peter upside the head with an open hand. It hadn’t hurt, more like stung really, but he still rubbed the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Language, маленький паук.” The soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lip contradicted the stern tone.

“Alright, _Captain America_. Yes sir-re,” Peter muttered beneath his breath. He side stepped another head slap and walked closer to the pod. “So. What is it?”

“You’re asking me?” Tony pointed up at himself. “I just got here, kid. Give me a minute to get familiar with her.”

“Should I get you two a room?” Rodney quipped, wagging his finger back and forth between Tony and the pod.

“Don’t be jealous, Platypus. There’s enough of me to go around.”

“Ew, gross.” Peter clapped his hands over his mask where his ears would be and shut his eyes tight. “Nononononono! Can we – can you guys _not_? Please? Right now?”

“Sensitive?” Tony chuckled, squatting down to try and get a glance at the underbelly.

“When it comes to mental images of you and…..and stuff I _never ever_ want to think about? Yeah, Mr. Stark, sensitive enough to require years of therapy.”

“Put it on my tab, Kid.”

Nat rolled her eyes at their easy banter and looked across the pod at Rodney. “What do you think it is?”

“A couple of things, for starters. Pentagon structure around the scaly red pod-thing looks aerodynamic enough but nothing about it screams flight capable. On the other hand, the scorch marks make me think otherwise.”

“Re-entry burns, right?” Peter happily supplied, pointing out various burn patterns.

  “Yeah,” Rodney nodded. He stepped back from his inspection and crossed his arms. “From up there to down here, but unable to fly itself….I’m thinking a jettison pod. Escape capsule, maybe? Might’ve been sling-shot from Earth into space then came back down again like satellite debris. Who knows? But I’m betting if we crack open that pod’s shell, we’ll find whatever List’s been working on.”

“So the pod ship isn’t a ship but a fancy box for weapons storage?” Nat summed up.

“Pretty much. For now at least, anyway,” Tony agreed. He stood up and walked over to Peter. “FRIDAY agrees with Karen’s assessment – metals aren’t Earth made, natural or otherwise.”

“Alien U.F.O,” Peter stage whispered to no one in particular. Tony chuckled but Rodney rolled his eyes.

“Or,” Nat hedged, “List retrofitted Chitauri tech to suit his needs. Done it before, he can do it again.”

“Sure, but this thing isn’t Chitauri.” Tony waved the thought off. “Compared and eliminated already.”

“Alright, if not Chitauri then something else. Asgardian?”

“Nope,” Tony popped the ‘P’.

“Skrull?” Rodney added.

“Nah-uh.”

“Kree?”

“Martians?”

“Mar-” Tony turned to Peter and pulled a face like he had eaten a sour lemon. “Really, kid? _Martins_?”

“What?” Peter shrugged, mildly offended. “You don’t know.”

“And you do?”

“I bet Matt Damon knows,” Rodney commented under his breath.

“Please, the man’s not worth the $900 billion and change-”

“Not this again, Tony,” Nat sighed, looking up to the sky, silently pleading for deliverance.

“Yes-”

“ _No_ ,” Steve repeated sternly. Bucky, Sam, and the members of STRIKE walked past them with List and the soldiers to secure them on the Quinjet. He stopped beside Tony and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing subtly. When Tony rolled his eyes, Steve turned to the others. “Update?”

 “Definitely alien tech,” Nat told him. “Unknown if List jerry-rigged it from scrap to store his weapon in the pod or if it’s genuine-”

“And he’s still using the pod to store the weapon,” Rodney finished for her.

“Either way, we’ll know more once we get it back to the lab. Bruce and I’ll come up with something.” Tony put his fingers in his mouth, breathed in but stopped. He glanced over at Peter and looked him over.

“Karen, activate _Earmuffs Protocol_. Two second duration, soft reintroduction.” Before Peter realized it, all sound stopped. Nothing, no external stimuli filtered through his mask. For two wonderful seconds he was completely cut off.

Realizing the protocol was in effect by the relaxed drop in Peter’s shoulders, Tony put his fingers back in his mouth to give a shrill, high-pitched whistle. Out of the corner of his eyes, Peter saw Steve wince and rub his ear. It took another two seconds for the sound around Peter to gradually come back as to not shock his system.

“-into the cargo bay. Slow and steady, boys and girls. Still don’t know what this thing is and I don’t feel like  finding out at 35,000 feet.”

“Tony, Rodney, supervise the loading.” Steve said. “Nat, check in on our guests.”

“And me, Captain America, sir?” Peter asked, rolling back on the balls of his feet. He none too subtly moved closer to the pod.

“No, nah-uh, no way.” Tony waved his hand cutting off Steve’s order and Peter’s forthcoming protests. “This is where you zip it, Spiderling, the adult is talking.”

“I _am_ an adult-”

“An adult who has an AP Calculus test tomorrow-”

“Mr. Stark-”

“And Happy was telling me how you were struggling on some of your homework equations-”

“Come on, Mr. Stark-”

“And honestly I’m kinda hurt you didn’t come to me with that. This is exactly the kind of thing a Mentor is for.”

“Seriously?”

“You know, M.I.T applications deadline is around the corner. And I’m not saying that because I have some pull there, it’s a great school really, just look what it did for my honey-bear over there-”

“Tony!” Rodney yelled loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “You’re rambling, man. Get it together.”

“Right, right. Sorry.” He scratched the adhesive tape over his eyebrow covering the scratch he got earlier on the mission. “But the answer is still no, kid. You wanted to stay on the ground, well, grounded you are. Your ride’s waiting for you on the boardwalk.”

“No! No, come on, Mr. Stark. Please?” Peter threw his whole body into his whine, dipping down and turning for a moment.

“That really isn’t helping your case, bud.” Steve commented before walking away. As much as he loved seeing this side of Tony, he didn’t want to get roped into Peter’s begging. Not after the last time.

“Cap!” Peter yelled after him, betrayal lacing his voice. “Really?”

“Home, Webs. _Now_.” Tony took Peter by the shoulder and began to none-too-gently guide him out of the perimeter SHIELD had established along the beach. Away from prying eyes and curious ears, Tony leaned down so only Peter could hear him. “Your Aunt will find a way to kill me if you don’t get home at a decent hour the night before a big exam. And Pepper will help her. I like breathing, kid, and I bet you do too.”

“How’s she gonna know? I’ll just sneak in through my window like I normally do.”

“Not with Happy picking you up.”

“ _Happy_?!” Peter’s head whipped around and sure enough, Stark Industry’s Forehead of Security was leaning against the back of his black SUV with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not like it’s out of his way or anything.”

“Get in, kid. It’s a school night.” Happy pushed himself off the back and uncharacteristically opened the front passenger door. “Should’ve been home hours ago.”

“Getting soft in your old age?” Tony joked. He waved his hand at the man’s casual appearance in jeans and a grey hood with the S.I. logo on it. “New look? Casual Friday is still a couple hours away, no need to get a head start.”

“I was sleeping, Tony. Very comfortably, I might add.”

“I bet you were,” Tony’s grin turned wolfish and chuckled. Both Peter and Happy simultaneously looked disgusted; however, only Peter’s ears turned red and his cheeks hot.

“Really?” Happy sighed. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, as he walked around the hood to the driver’s seat. His door slammed, momentarily drawing Peter’s attention away from Tony. When he looked back, Tony was already making his way back to the beach.

“But Mr. Stark, the U.F.O-”

“Sorry, kid,” Tony called back over his shoulders, sliding on his HUD glasses. Threw up his hand in a wave. “Avengers only and _you_ turned that gig down.”

“Like, three years ago!”

“No take-backs!”

Peter threw his head back and groaned. He kicked a couple loose gravel pebbles as he walked back to the car. As if he could read Peter’s mind, Happy didn’t spare him a glance when he gave the stern reminder,

“Slam that door and your riding in the trunk.”

“Yes, _Harold_.”

If Peter had to suffer through the embarrassment of being the only superhero in New York who had to be picked up from a mission and driven home before his bedtime, then Happy was suffering with him. Peter reached for the radio dials – and it was going to start with the music.

 


	3. The ‘Man Wasn’t Meant to Meddle Medley’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team transports the 0-8-4 pod-ship back to the Avenger's Compound. An argument arises between Bruce and Tony concerning their findings on this pod-ship, bringing up old wounds and past failures they would rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be pretty busy from the 4th of July (Tursday) and throughout the weekend to post anything so YOU'RE WELCOME I'm going to be doing it early!
> 
> A couple Author's Notes and house-cleaning tidbits::  
> \- According the MCU wiki page on ‘Morgan Stark,’ she is 4 years old in 2023 - meaning she was born in 2019 (when this story takes place). For the purpose of this story, she is a couple months old (idk what her actual birth-month is so we’re winging it).  
> \- No Professor Hulk-Banner – amazing work with the CGI in Endgame, but it was a bit too weird for me. I love seeing Mark Ruffalo’s face too much.   
> \- We’re getting technical here folks so bear with me. I haven’t a clue what kind of science goes on within the MCU, so don’t take my word for how accurate this may or may not be.

Located in Upstate New York, the Avenger’s Compound is a continuously expanding estate of warehouses, office buildings, and training facilities overlooking Breakstone Lake. It serves as the unofficial headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D operations and is staffed by agents who carry out the day-to-day business, as well as an accompanying team of Stark Industries employees, scientists, and consultants who staff the base’s fully equipped laboratories. Perks of the job come along with dormitories and private offices for the long-term staff and Avengers team members.

The base itself is outfitted for combat training, weapons development, and vehicle storage – the Avenger’s fleet of Quinjets, SUVs, and a gigantic helipad that’s been expanded to fit nine Quinjet-sized aircrafts with each available landing zone sectioned off in clear numbers. Currently, two other crafts were taking up slots three and seven.

“Touchdown in one, Cap,” Nat called over her shoulder to Steve. He patted the back of her chair and turned to walk down the cockpit stairs into the passenger bay. List and the HYDRA soldiers were secured to their seats and flanked by STRIKE members. For good measure, Wanda sat opposite of them boring daggers. Bucky and Sam were a few rows over playing cards and accusing the other of cheating.

“Buckle-up, we’re landing,” Steve called out as he walked the length towards the cargo-bay in the back. “Anything new?”

Tony was tapping away on his StarkPad as he circled the pod. Vision circled the opposite way, hands clasped behind his back, making his own mental calculations. Rhodey sat off to the side swiping through orbital debris records from NASA, NORAD, and anyone else’s databases.

“Nothing has changed, sir.” Vision reported. “Structural and composition analysis confirm alien. There are elements I cannot quantify. The pod appears to be a protective housing unit for something inside.”

“So, no,” Tony glanced up at Steve. “Nothing new, just a fancier way of saying it.”

“Could it be carrying something powerful?”

“Like a reactor, maybe?” Tony asked.

“ _Like a computer, sir._ ” FRIDAY answered. “ _I believe I am deciphering code_. _It will take some time to sort through._ ”

“Best things always do,” Tony shrugged. “Keep me updated.”

Steve scoffed. “Never known you to be a patient man, Tony.”

“You wait nine months you meet your kid, add in a couple more years till they get interesting, and we’ll see how patient you’ll become.”

Steve shook his head, turning away before the others could see the glint of sadness in his eyes, leaving Rhodey and Tony to bicker in his wake.

“ _’Until their interesting’_? Tony, that little girl has had you wrapped around her chubby little finger since she was born.”

“Hey!” He pointed the StarkPad at Rhodey in mock menace. “Not chubby, _developing_. She’ll grow into it.”

“You mean _out_ of it?”

“Body positivity, Honey Bear. Don’t want to give her a complex.”

The formal monotone voice of the Compound’s Air Traffic Controler (ATC) come through the Quinjet’s overhead speakers. _“Quebec Juliet 20-33-26, cleared to land zone nine.”_

“Cleared to land zone nine, Quebec Juliet 20-33-26,” Nat repeated just as blandly.

As Nat brought them to hover above their designated section, the wings of the Quinjet folded down and inwards around the main body of the jet so that they could fit inside the hanger bay off the runway. Once the wings were locked, the jet began it’s decent. There was the typical jostle and lurch that accompanied every flight landing, yet it was considerably smoother. Tony couldn’t get rid of the effect entirely and settled for the feeling of driving over a small divot in the road.

The jet settled on the helipad, yet everyone remained seated – or gripping onto the overhead baggage netting in Tony’s case – while they taxied. Normally, the team would disembark on the helipad; however, Nat had radioed into Control to inform them of their manifest shortly after taking off from Coney Island. Since the ‘asset’ is a possible weapon of unknown potential and purpose, the Quinjet would be taking another route.

Beneath them, the blacktop around their landing zone retracted into itself allowing for their numbered section to gradually lower into the subterranean hanger bay. Tony preferred to call it ‘The Danger Room.’ He initially built the sublevel to work on projects that are either too large to fit into his lab or too dangerous to keep around people. Otherwise, it’s occasionally used for enhanced agents-in-training or other enhanced assets to use their powers in a controlled environment – using everything from next-gen Iron Legion droids to holographic projections interfaced with B.A.R.F tech. – until they are in enough control to train with others without killing (or seriously maiming, in one isolated case) another agent.

In the intelligence community’s beloved compartmentalized manner, agents need a SHIELD clearance level of six or higher to access the bay; however, special color-scheme clearance considerations are allowed via FRIDAY’s discretion.

Once settled firmly on the ground and the landing gears locked into place, the light above the cargo bay doors switched from red to green. Steve walked over to the control panel and flipped the switch for the ramp to descend. One by one, the A.I.’s sensors scanned those getting off the Quinjet as a STIKE member stood off to the side with a StarkPad projecting name, face, clearance level and serial number for verification. Elevators throughout the compound do the same in the more restricted sections.

“Welcome back,” Dr. Bruce Banner greeted the team as they stepped off. “Heard there was a bit of excitement down at Coney?”

He was dressed down from his normal checkered dress shirt tucked into his dockers, pristine white lab coat covering it all. Instead, given the late hour, he wore a heathered grey, soft cotton sleep pant and lavender long-sleeve crew neck. And, of course, the lab coat wasn’t too far – resting behind him on a table along with his steaming cup of tea.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” Tony shrugged. “Petey crashed a plane. Honestly, I’m going to have to have a stern talk with that boy.”

“Let me know how that goes,” Bruce chuckled. He glanced over their shoulders to watch Rhodey and Vision supervise the removal of the pod from the Quinjet. “You sure it’s safe to bring in here?”

“Absolutely not,” Tony turned to watch the technicians grapple with how best to move the pod, none of them wanting to get too close. “That’s why we’re putting it in the Exploding Room. _If_ they ever manage to get it out of there. Wanda, could you be a dear and-”

She quirked a smile at him as he danced his fingers in a poor imitation of her. She called out as she walked over, “Okay, boys. My turn.”

Within moments, her red wisps took control of the pod and effortlessly lifted it off the Quinjet’s floor, down the ramp, and onto a waiting flatbed dolly cart.

“Very well done, Ms. Maximoff,” Vision complemented her.

“Thank you, Vis.” She beamed up at him.

“Where to, Mr. Stark?” A technician asked, coming up to stand beside the cart.

“The E.R.,” Tony directed, waving his hand vaguely in that direction. The technician nodded and maneuvered the cart via a joystick on his tablet. “Shall we?”

“After you,” Bruce picked up his tea and draped his lab coat over his arm. Vision, Wanda, and Rhodey followed closely behind while Bucky, Sam, and Nat transported their guests to their detention cells.

Steve was about to follow when a call on his cell stopped him. When he checked the ID, he turned heal and headed in the opposite direction. Watching Bruce and Tony talk technobabble could wait, this couldn’t.

**

The construction of the Exploding Room was similar to that of a fallout shelter; however, the walls’ shielding more than reduces the gamma radiation exposure – it eliminates it entirely. Blast doors cover the walls both inside the room and the walls of the observation room. As things often do in there, the walls are designed to absorb the shock wave of a nuclear-level blasts, bending and then returning to their original shape.

“FRIDAY, you up?” Tony called out, walking into the observation room. He snapped his fingers and the full wall of screens projected a live feed from the E.R.

_“Always, boss.”_

“I’d like to start a new file. Index as…” He turned to Bruce who was shrugging on his lab coat. He accepted his mug of tea back from Wanda with a grateful smile. “What should we call it?”

“HYDRA U.F.O seems good enough to me.”

“Not inventive enough. How about-”

“FRIDAY, index it as Coney Island.” Rhodney spoke over Tony. “I’m sure you’ll name it something more pithy later, but right now let’s figure out what it actually is.”

“You’re no fun when you’re grumpy, Platypus.”

“He enjoys sleep, unlike some people,” Bruce muttered around the rim of his mug.

_“Shall I store this on the SHIELD or the Avenger’s central database?”_

“Until further notice, let’s keep this on my private server.”

“Trust issues, Tones?” Rhodey asked, taking a seat in one of the swivel chairs.

“No, just don’t want Patchy getting any ideas until I know what’s what.” He was inputting commands for FRIDAY to record footage and initiate a holographic scan of the pod. “They’ve got the good doctor; we’ve got the pod. We’ll each meet in the middle and see what’s what.”

“Fantastic,” Bruce sighed wearily. This wouldn’t be the first time he accompanied Tony down a rabbit hole, and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. He placed his mug on the back table and stepped up to the image FRIDAY projected into the middle of the room. “Where do you want to start?”

“Work our way from the outside-in. Mainly because I can’t seem to find an opening.”

“List has a habit of reverse-engineering alien tech to suit his needs. This shouldn’t be any different.”

“We could always ask him how to open it,” Wanda commented from the back of the room. When they all turned to look at her, she gave them a point smile reminiscent of Natasha’s. “Nicely.”

“You,” Rhodey pointed at her, “have been spending too much time with Nat.”

“Is that such a bad thing, Colonel?” She asked sweetly enough.

He chuckled. “Not at all.”

“Okay,” Tony clapped his hands together and rubbed them before shooting them out. The hologram responded by enlarging itself to engulf the majority of the observation room. “Let’s figure out what this baby’s made of shall we? FRIDAY, drop the needle.”

And with that command, Tony and Bruce began to speak their English – Vision interjecting periodically – at a rate only they could keep up with. They shot theories and explanations back and forth at one another, walking the length of the observation room to interact with each other’s sections of the hologram and various screens of complex calculations. They were so immersed in their work, neither had noticed when first Rhodey, then Wanda took their leave. Vision phased in and out periodically to check on their progress and offer any comments he could, but eventually he, too, left them to their work.

They spent hours poring over what they managed to compile on the pod’s schematics. It was a little while after dawn when Bruce, laying on the floor beside Tony, feet-to-head underneath the hologram pod, their work on various screens and papers scattered around them, that he glimpsed something….not quite right on the scan.

“Hey. Hey, Tony.”

“What did we miss,” the man continued to mournfully mutter beneath his breath as he had been for the past hour, rubbing his hands over his closed eyes.

Bruce nudged Tony’s shoulder with the tip of his socked foot. “Tony”

“There’s got to be a way to get in that thing. I mean, _nothing_ is impenetrable – not Area 51, not Fort Knox, the Vatican – _hell_ , not even Suzy Lewis’s chastity belt once I-”

“Tony!” Bruce shouted, forcefully kicking Tony’s shoulder, jostling the man out of his sleep-deprivation ramblings. “ _That’s_ what we missed.”

Bruce was pointing up to a small cross-section of what appeared to be the reverse engineering they’d spent the past night looking for, wedged tightly between the side of the pod and one of the pentagonal support beams encasing it. Tony performed a tight tuck-and-roll so he was shoulder-to-shoulder lying beside Bruce. If he tilted his head a certain way and squinted really hard—

“Friday!” Tony yelled suddenly, causing Bruce to jerk away and scowl. The genius hopped up onto his feet and grabbed the section of the hologram to further enlarge it. He began snapping his fingers like a maniac. “Friday, wake up! We’ve got work to do!”

“ _Boss_ ,” FRIDAY sounded as fatigued as Bruce felt. He sympathized with the A.I.; he usually feels the same after pulling all-nighters with Tony. “ _You have been awake for nearly 72 hours. Might it be prudent to-”_

“It would be _prudent_ , dear, if you ran diagnostics on this section only. I want to know what List did. Got it?”

_“Yes, Boss.”_ A red beam came from a sensor in the ceiling inside the E.R and focused on the section Tony had directed FRIDAY to. Within moments, the projections came back to the observation room’s screens. _“I have determined this area would be the most plausible access point.”_

Tony bit his lip excitedly and pulled his fist back in a self-congratulatory pump. “Excellent! FRIDAY, prep the droids; we’re going in.”

“Woah, woah, Tony,” Bruce held out his hand to steady Tony’s excited jitters. “Tony, we still don’t know what that thing is.”

“It’s a pod.”

“Obviously, dipshit, but what’s it’s purpose? What did List do to it? What did he put inside it? Or take _out_ of it, for that matter?”

“Well that’s the whole point of going in, isn’t it? To answer those questions!”

“FRIDAY,” Bruce called out, leveling Tony with his signature stare of calm judgment. “What’ve you got on that code?”

While Tony and Bruce had been going back and forth on the pod’s composition and how best to penetrate it (pun very much intended when Tony first brought it up), FRIDAY was attempting to decipher the computer-like code she had picked up on earlier.

_“I have analyzed all that I can access from the pod,_ ” FRIDAY began. She projected a sponge-cake yellow orb of code and complex data calculations, all orbiting one another harmoniously.

“I’d recognize you anywhere, FRIDAY. What’s your point?”

“ _This is_ ,” the sphere pulsed in time as the A.I spoke. Beside it, another orb, significantly larger and more complex in its structure, appeared in a vibrant azure blue. Data seemed to be travelling back and forth in a way similar to neurons firing in the brain; the core structure itself pulsed rhythmically.   

“It’s beautiful,” Tony whispered to himself, stepping closer to the projection. “It looks like it’s….it’s _thinking_. That can’t be right, can it? FRIDAY?”

_“Without closer examination and based on the rudimentary data at my disposal-”_

“Cut the shit,” Tony barked. He turned to Bruce and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the pod. “Are you telling me there’s artificial intelligence inside that thing?”

“ _It appears so, Boss_.”

“I’m not having this turn out like Ultron did, Tony, not again. I don’t need that on my conscience.”

“It won’t-”

“I’m caught in another goddamn loop with you – first Ultron, then Vision, now this-this pod-thing we don’t even know what’s inside! I’m not a mad scientist. I’m not a monster.”

“I know you’re not, buddy. I know that, the team knows that; _hell_ , I made sure the whole world knew that! This won’t be like last time! We can access the program, fry the operational system, break it down-”

“You’re asking for trust and I kinda don’t when it comes to _artificial intelligence_. Wh-what did you call it?” Bruce snapped his fingers, glancing around the floor. “The ‘ _man wasn’t meant to meddle medley_ ’? I happen to think that tune is apropos given our history with these kinds of things, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t play with things we don’t understand. Learned that lesson the hard way. That’s all the more reason to crack that thing open so that we can.”

“Ultron is what you and I _both_ did. And I like to think we’re pretty good people, with good intentions. That’s how Ultron started out – _a suit of armor around the world_. But what about HYDRA, Tony? What do you think the result of _their_ meddling would have created? Our Murder Bot’s homicidal glitches would be a winning personality compared to…. _that_ , the nightmare that could be waiting for us inside there.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.”

“Am I?” Bruce scoffed. “Please, do enlighten me.”

“List isn’t smart enough to create his own A.I. You said it a second ago – it took _both_ of us pulling all our weight to create Ultron. And if I’m reading this right - and I am - the system inside that pod makes Ultron look prehistoric. Now tell me, you honestly think List can do something like that?”

The question caused Bruce to pause. “No, I don’t.”

“Exactly.” Tony stated emphatically.

“Alright, so if it isn’t HYDRA inside the pod, then it’s someone else. Someone alien. Asgard doesn’t even have A.I. tech so whatever’s in there could possibly be more advanced than them.”

For the next hour, Bruce and Tony went back and forth over the possibilities awaiting them inside the pod. Bruce understandably urged caution – FRIDAY has barely been able to assess the situation with all the interference the pod is giving off, blocking nearly all of her functions from interacting with it.

Bruce divided his concerns into two categories – Hydra and Alien. If they do manage to open the pod, it could literally backfire on them and explode. From there encounters with List, they knew he wasn’t above booby-trap his work in case it fell into the wrong hands like, I don’t know, SHIELD as it most often does. This is assuming List had managed to get inside. If not, then the cross-section markings could just be scarring from his failed attempt. In that case, it brings up the alien possibility that the pod could be carrying some foreign space disease. He even considered the possibility of the pod being a bio-weapon meant to be released upon impact.

“Okay, man-sized if on the last ones,” Tony countered. “And our _jobs_ are ‘if’. Those are worst-case scenarios.”

“Some pretty concerning scenarios.”

With every point Bruce made, Tony countered with the E.R.’s safety protocols. Arguably, it was one of, if not the safest room constructed probably in the entire world for this vary purpose. Further humoring Bruce’s concern for bio-weapons, Tony informed his that the ventilation has been off since the pod was brought in. There was no possible way a contagion could be released. The room was light-years beyond secure.

“Your seal of approval means everything to me, Bruce. This won’t happen without your go ahead; you’ll have complete and utter control from here on out. Just. Say. Yes.”

“You didn’t tell the team last time because you didn’t want a city hall debate. If you want to go through with this, break this loop, we bring them in.”

“Done. Is that a yes?”

“I’m going to regret this, but….yes.”

“Anything else while we’re at it? More tea perhaps?”


	4. Open Sesame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bruce use a Lightsaber to open up the podship......it doesn't go to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, anyone know how to make a banner for their writings? Like I see it ALL THE TIME on Tumblr with some really amazing authors, but idk how they do that stuff. Any tips?

Within the next few hours Steve and Deputy Director Hill joined Brue and Tony in the observation room while they waited for Director Fury. And when she walked into the Observation Room ahead of Steve, wearing one of his Henley’s underneath her dark navy-blue leather SHIELD jacket, no one commented.

Fury’s arrival was typically heralded by helicopters, while Maria’s tended to be much more subtle if she wasn’t accompanying the older man. Having spent the night before at the compound, her quite morning wake-up call came from a hot cup of black coffee alongside her briefing and served by a certain blond, blue-eyed soldier that had come back from his morning run deliciously sweaty. It was nearly enough to make her forget the coffee and slake her thirst elsewhere, but the allure of caffeine and its heavenly smell made her throw a pillow at the Captain to drive him off distracting her further.

Fury floated in moments later after the pair’s arrival. Nick ~~asked~~ demanded in his usual gruff tone, “Walk me through this, Stark. How the hell’s this gonna work?”

While the actual equipment they would be using was inside the Exploding Room, FRIDAY would be projecting interactive holograms for Bruce and Tony to control from the O.R. Tony had allowed Peter (not that there was much stopping the kid) to affectionally named his latest tech ‘The Lightsaber’ – it was a more powerful version of a plasma cutter torch that generates a beam containing megawatts of energy capable of cutting through things that weren’t meant to be cut through.

The tech was still in its infancy so for good measure he kept it isolated to the E.R with only Tony and Bruce able to operate it. The only thing stopping him and Peter from making this technology handheld was Pepper. That and, as Bruce kindly reminded him at Pepper’s _strong_ urging, the immense heat of the infrared radiation coming from the irradiated plasma. The distance of a few inches between the wielder and the ‘sword’ would instantly char the person’s hands. Some sort of forcefield would need to be generated to keep the heat in – Star Wars movie magic makes him think of using optical wavelengths. The colorful forcefield would contain the radiation but allow for light to show through.

Plus, Peter wants one like Mace Windu’s.

“FRIDAY-” Tony called, waving off-handedly in the air. A live feed of the E.R. projected itself on the opposite wall the team was leaning against, given the appearance they were looking through a window into the room rather than a reinforced concrete wall. “We’ll direct the beam to the cross-section FRIDAY isolated as the weak spot.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to get in?” Maria asked, glancing at her watch.

Tony and Bruce shared a glance, silently communicating their timetables to one another through various facial expressions, shrugs, and hand gestures. Their quiet conversation had apparently ended when Bruce turned to the group looking on. The team had witnessed it on more than one occasion, but it’s still unnerving to watch at times.

“If our calculations are correct-”

“And they are-”

“- _preliminary_ as they might be,” Bruce leveled Tony a look, “we’re confident the Lightsaber will penetrate the hull fully within the hour.”

“How confident is confident?” Fury asked. He’d read their initial findings, as much as he could without a translator, on his flight over. From what they’ve come up with, whatever that pod-ship is made of is as strong as, if not stronger, than Vibranium.

Simultaneously, both Bruce and Tony replied over each other with “twelve percent” and “eighty-eight percent”.

“Well,” Maria drawled. “That’s _one hundred percent_ bullshit.”

“We’re confident nothing will blow up,” Tony countered, although glancing back over his shoulder when Bruce softly cleared his throat. “At least not in _this_ room.”

“So an hour minimum to blast a hole in a pod from outer-space,” Fury recapped, ignoring the scientists when they nodded in agreement. Fury spoke as he moved across the room to the large couch, “What are you waiting for, a cordial invitation? This ain’t a typical nine-to-five kinda day, gentlemen. Let’s get a move on.”

“You heard the man, FRIDAY.” Tony turned to the interactive hologram of the Lightsaber’s control, threading his hands in. As he took control in the O.R, the machines in the E.R responded in kind via FRIDAY’s direction.

“We good, Doc?” Tony asked Bruce without looking away from the screen into the E.R.

“Adjusting calibrations…” Bruce muttered. His eyes were squinted as he looked back and forth from the E.R. screen, the holo-controls, and his StarkPad.

“Brucie,” Tony sing-song sang.

“Got it. Got it,” Bruce’s head snapped up, his own Lightsaber jerking with his movements. “We’re good.”

“Alrighty then.” Tony grinned as turned on his Lightsaber. Within moments the beam grew to a considerable length as Tony maneuvered it over the pod. “Open Sesame.”

Flames licked the edges of the pod when the beam’s initial incision made contact. It’ll take some time for the surrounding hull to melt around the beam.

***

Maria sat beside Fury on the couch, working through various SHIELD business that needed her attention on her StarkPad; however, Fury spent his time catching up on his latest StarkPhone game – shooting bubbles at other bubbles, or something like that. Steve didn’t understand the allure to the game, so he sat on the arm rest beside Maria, uninterestedly resting his chin in his palm, watching the two doctors work in tandem with one another.

“I wonder if it comes in purple,” Fury murmured, shooting off a bubble that caused a string of explosions on his screen. Steve raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t comment. Not that Fury would notice, too absorbed in the fireworks and confetti decorating the screen announcing his new high score.

Overhead, a chime sounded. Steve straightened up, getting to his feet, and Maria shut down her Pad to focus on the observation screens; however, Fury did not.

“What’s goin’ on, Stark?” He asked, lazily looking up only to go back to his game.

Tony looked away momentarily to his closest computer screen. “FRIDAY, talk to me, girl.”

“ _You have breached the inner blast doors-”_ The transmission cut off into choppy static, every other word getting through but just barely.

“Stark,” Fury drawled, putting his phone inside his jacket pocket. “I don’t like it when your machines act up.”

“Neither do I,” Tony hummed.

“Interference, maybe?” Bruce offered. He turned from his Lightsaber, the machine disconnecting automatically, and turned to his StarkPad to run diagnostics.

Steve shivered, cringing inward as he scrunched his eyes closed. He shook his head as if trying to dispel an awful noise from his head.

“Got fleas, Rogers?” Fury asked sarcastically turning to face him, eyebrow raised.

“There’s-There’s a noise,” Steve muttered. His voice was soft, anything above a whisper would make it worse.

He sat down hard on the arm of the couch, his hands covering his ears as if somehow that would help. For the past hour, he’s been hearing this low hum. It wasn’t an electronic buzz from the light or the flashlights, but something _more_ ….natural, earthy. Something familiar. The hum felt warm somehow. 

“Tony-”

“I’ve got ya, Steve,” Bruce reassured him quietly. While Tony continued to operate the Lightsaber, Bruce got to work measuring the acoustic frequency in the room as well as the E.R.

“Don’t you hear it?” Steve sighed.

“Hear what-” Maria began asking but was cut off when Steve suddenly yelled out in pain.

Throughout the room, the hum dramatically shifted into an blood-curdling, machine-like shrill scream. Steve fell forward out of the couch and onto his knees, curling in on himself as he squeezed his hands over his ears.

Around the room, everyone else experienced something similar – Tony let go of the Lightsaber controls, the beam shutting off, as he covered his ears. Bruce jerked his neck several times attempting to gain some type of control as green bled into his complexion. For a split second, Tony had sense to wonder if the beam had somehow injured the pod – FRIDAY had said there was an advanced AI system inside the pod. Was it so advanced it was capable of feeling pain?

The noise gradually built as a blinding white light shot out from inside the pod through the Lightsaber hole and sent everyone ducking, curling in on themselves to cover their eyes. Steve could feel blood trickling from his ears, and another beginning to flow from his nose. He knew he couldn’t take much more of this. If Tony or Bruce didn’t somehow stop the screaming, he’d go deaf, loose his mind, or mercifully die.

Inside the E.R., the light spread like veins throughout the micro-fissures along the pod-ship’s outer hull to form intricate designs. The screaming peaked to its highest, searing itself into everyone’s brains as the light filled the room. Together,  they disabled all the screens and sensors. As suddenly as it had come on, it all cut off, plunging the room into total darkness.

 No noise, no light, no transmissions, live footage of the E.R, or holograms from FRIDAY. Dead silence.

Uncurling himself from the fetal position he forced himself into on the floor, Tony lifted his head and groaned, “Write that down….”

“FRIDAY, what was that?” Bruce grunted out painfully. His head was bowed between his arms as he braced himself on a nearby table, his body shivering in tiny tremors as he continued to struggle with keeping the Hulk at bay.

When there was no response, Tony stood up and stared wildly around the barren room. “FRIDAY!”

Her response came in short, fractured bursts of static in warbled tones that didn’t entirely count as words. As if growing frustrated with herself as she continued her attempts to speak, FRIDAY instead brought up the live feed from the E.R. In between the inactive Lightsabers was the pod, smoke rising from the beam’s hole in its side.

“That’s new,” Tony commented, squinting and tilting his head at the intricate, ornate designs that the light had carved into the hull and supporting beams.

It reminded him of lightning, in a sense – the crackle of electricity you could feel raise the hairs on your skin, the tension you could feel rising in the air around you, before the brilliant shock of white against graphite colors and the crack of its design against the monochromatic landscape. If only it hadn’t felt like it was frying his brain.

As they silently gathered closer to the viewing screen, something remarkably unexpected happened.

First, the pod began to open. Some automated system within the pod lifted it’s top to slide back in on itself like a convertible would, leaving the inside exposed.

Second, when the steam and smoke that had built up inside the pod cleared, they were able to see a young, naked female laying on her side in the fetal position inside the pod. Tubes and wires were attached in various places on her body. Silver-plated bindings on shackled her wrists and ankles, all connected together by a silver chain fixed to a thick metal collar around her neck. A mask not unlike the Winter Soldier’s covered the lower half of her face connected to a breathing apparatus. The muzzle left only her closed eyes exposed. 

“Oh….Oh, God.” Horrified, Bruce rushed from the O.R. before anyone could register what was happening. He slammed his hand against the red emergency comm box on the wall, shouting as he left the room, “Medical Emergency! STAT! Exploding Room!”

Outside of the O.R, red lights flashed periodically as bursts of noises signaled the alarm. Tony turned back to his computers to assess what he could from here and feed it to Dr. Cho and her team in the Infirmary. Steve was about to follow Bruce when Fury’s hand jetted out to grip him by the bicep. Steve turned; his eyebrow raised.

“Easy there, Captain. You don’t want to go rushing into this.”

“There’s a girl down there who needs our help-”

“I understand that but looks can be deceiving.”

“ _Looks can be deceiving_?” Steve parroted back in disbelief. He knew Fury had trust issues, but he didn’t think they extended so far as the neglect an injured innocent. He pulled his arm out of Fury’s grip, turning fully to face the man. “Just what aren’t you telling us, Fury? What is it that you know?”

“Nothing more than this is List that we’re dealing with. Remember Sokovia? His little pet project – the Maximoff Twins?”

“All the more reason to help her,” Steve firmly stated. “She looks more like a victim of human trafficking that she does a willing HYDRA test subject. She could be dead or dying because we roasted her alive with Tony’s beam.” He stepped closer into Fury’s space, causing the other man to lift his chin defiantly. “If she dies, that’s not on HYDRA. That’s on us. On _you_.”

“Steve,” Maria called out gently. She stood off to the side behind Fury, her arms crossed over her chest. “That’s not what he meant-”

“Really? Because it sure as hell seemed like it from here,” Tony quipped without raising his head from his screens. “Vitals aren’t looking good. Cho’s got her work cut out for her.”

Fury glanced over his shoulder at Maria before turning back to Steve. “Put it this way – leave the doctoring to the professionals. When she’s able to talk, then you go at her. Just don’t let this affect your judgement. If she’s a weapon we cross her off. No exceptions.”

“And if she’s not?” Steve turned towards the view screen to watch Bruce and a team of technicians pouring over the pod to assess the situation. “A weapon. What then?”

“Then we see what HYDRA wanted her for.”

***

Amongst the hustle and bustle of Dr. Cho’s medical team and unnoticed by Tony, whose continued efforts to repair FRIDAY from the damage the interference had done to her systems, a signal had been sent from the pod in all the chaos. Unknown to them, the energy from the beam was the kickstart the pod’s systems needed after having spent the last several millennia with depleted reserves. With the enormous inflex of power, the A.I that comprised the pod initiated a long awaited a homing and distress beacon.

Only two were looking for it –

In the golden observatory at the end of the Rainbow Bridge, the all-seeing eyes of Heimdahl, Gatekeeper of Asgard and Guardian of the Bifrost Bridge, looked down upon the Nine Realms. It was a quiet morning with nothing unusual happening, that is until a great white light burst forth from Midgard blinded him and the accompanied screams, rivaling that of his Gjallarhorn, deafened him. The onslaught was so powerful, it dropped the god to his knees, his eyes pinched shut in pain and his large hand clawing at his ears to make the pain go away.

“My Lord!” A guard at the entrance of the dome shouted, rushing forwards to the fallen Guardian. “My Lord, are you alright!”

“Thor!” Heimdahl bellowed. His arm lashed out wildly, blindly until it found the guard’s breastplate. He dragged the man close to growl out painfully, “Alert Thor…..Loki-”

He was cut himself off with an anguished war cry. He pushed the guard away, shouting after him, “For the Norn’s sake, _get Thor_!”

Heimdahl felt rather than heard or saw the guard scurry away, the sound of his horse’s hooves beating on the bridge, but Heimdahl paid it no mind. How could he? He felt as if he would sooner loose his mind than gain a sense of what was happening around him.

Within moments that weighed upon him like all the lifetimes of Asgard, the call suddenly – _stopped_. His vision was blocked from seeing where the urgent and distressing call had come from; he could only see the walls of his gilded station, hear only the throb and rush of his blood.

The crack of thunder overhead and the crackle of lighting preceded the King’s arrival before Thor knelt at Heimdahl’s side. He sighed wearily, “My King.”

“Heimdall, my friend.” Thor set his arm around Heimdahl’s shoulders, his other hand at the Guardian’s arm to lift him to his feet. Heimdahl’s hearing came back enough to hear the concern and worry dripping from Thor’s voice. “What have your eyes seen that you would call for me? What has distressed you so?”

With Thor’s help, Heimdahl stumbled back to the pedestal where his sword was mounted and sat down heavily. His movements were slow as he lifted his helm from his head and toss his head back to breathe deeply as his senses returned to him.

“Heimdahl, your silence concerns me.” Thor knelt in front of the Guardian, laying a gentle hand on the man’s knee. His eyes skittered across Heimdahl’s face trying to catch his attention. “What has happened?”

“Midgard,” Heimdahl breathed.

“Do the Avenger’s summon me?”

“No, my King.” He swallowed the growing pain in his head he would need a strong draft of honeyed mead to sleep off and looked his king in the eyes, the man’s concern for his second home growing more evident in his eyes. “Valyria does.”

***

The second to receive the pod’s cry was received and similarly responded to with another signal from within thousands of years old ice shelves. The suddenness of it all unnerved the technicians working at McMurdo Station. Not hesitating, they quickly contacted their liaison with NORAD. Anything coming from that far below the Earth's surface after a long slumber couldn't be good. 


	5. Spider-Man Goes to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a teeing a teenager sucks, but being a teenage superhero sucks worse. Peter’s expected to pretend like everything is normal and not worry about the U.F.O. in Upstate New York.

Peter groaned as his alarm blared in his ear from the bedside table. He was reaching for the snooze button again when a persistent banging rattled the door.

“Get up, kid!” Happy bellowed through the door, rasping his knuckles on the frame. “That’s the third time this morning I’ve heard that damn alarm. One more time and I’m smashing it.”

Peter’s mumbled reply was lost in his pillow as he turned into it. _Damn_. Getting up at 7am was rough no matter what schedule he keeps. He heard Happy’s heavy footfalls walk down the hallway to the stairs and into the kitchen. From the smell, he’d made coffee and May’s favorite – bacon, egg, and cheese on buttery grilled Texas toast. Peter was considering pushing his luck a little by staying in bed a couple more minutes, but his watering mouth triggered the hunger pangs in his stomach.

_Damn_. He hadn’t had a chance to eat since lunch yesterday, too focused on his calculus work to stop by Delmar’s for his usual Patrol snack. And then _the mother-freakin’ U.F.O_. happened -  

“Peter, you’re going to be late for school if you stay in there much longer,” May’s voice cut through his sleepy haze as she walked past his door on her way to her and Happy’s room at the end of the hall.

Peter couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted more sleep. He wanted Happy’s cooking. He preferably wanted both at the same time. A minute later Happy hollered from below, “Peter! _Food_!”

The bacon sizzling and popping in the pan’s grease was audible, the smell wafting up to entice him. He rolled over to grab his phone, muscles protesting. ‘ _No new notifications’_ was the only alert on the red and blue webbed background. He let his face fall into the pillow with a groan. Of course Mr. Stark wouldn’t be texting him with an update about the U.F.O – even though the StarkPhone Tony had ~~thrown at~~ given to him was top of the line; it wasn’t _Avengers’ secure_ by any stretch given Ned’s propensity to tinker with it.

Peter slowly sat up in bed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. It took him a minute more before he left his bed and shuffled out into the hall with a horrible case of bed head. It was by some minor miracle he got to the bottom of the stairs without falling down it headfirst. His ‘sticky’ fingers latched themselves onto the wall railing as if his _Spidey-Sense_ tipped it off.  

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tony, kid – and don’t take it as a complement, either.” Happy commented, waving his spatula in the air vaguely in Peter’s direction, as Peter walked lazily into the kitchen.

His back was turned to Peter, leaning over the stove in his usual black slacks and white dress shirt. When May discovered Happy was a significantly better cook that she was, she and Peter had spent a night decorating an apron for him; functional, yet practical if it kept the man from grumbling about May not having one at the apartment when he came over after work or stayed the night and was cooking breakfast before work…..Happy really didn’t like it when things got messy in the kitchen. And messy in the kitchen was May’s aesthetic.

“Being _fashionably late_ ain’t the way to go when it comes to school.”

Peter didn’t know when it happened but spending time with Happy had become oddly effortless. Not like it is with Mr. Stark or Aunt May, but it was getting there just like it was with Pepper and the other Avengers.

“Tired.” Peter complained, throwing himself into a chair at the kitchen table.

“That’s what you get for staying out so late. On a school night. Before a test.” Peter could hear the judgment in his voice.

“It wasn’t _that_ late.” Peter protested. He put his elbow on the table so he could rest his chin in the palm of his hand. He closed his eyes……

“Uh-huh,” Happy said skeptically. Set a plate down in front of Peter hard enough to startle the boy awake. “Time to get up, bud.”

Peter groaned and curled himself around his plate and let the steam rise up and warm his face. He mumbled a vague _thank you._ Happy just patted his shoulder and walked back to the stove to fix-up Aunt May’s plate.

“You’ve got twenty minutes, kid.” Happy warned as Peter slowly reached for his breakfast sandwich, still barely awake. “Shower’s optional, but brushing your teeth isn’t. _Basic_ human hygiene.”

May walked in wearing her powder blue nursing scrubs and tousled Peter’s unkept curls and leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of his head. She pulled back and wrinkled her nose. “Why do you smell like gasoline and dead fish? What’d you get up to last night?”

“Crashed a U.F.O on Coney Island,” Peter muttered around a mouthful of food. It took a moment for his words to register in his brain. When it did, he stopped mid-bite to spare a glance to Happy, who had likewise stopped with his spatula over May’s sandwich on the griddle.

“You _what_?” May slowly turned away from Peter and towards Happy, who had the good sense to turn off the griddle and plate her sandwich. He gave her a sheepish, apologetic smile as he handed over the plate almost as if he were approaching a dangerous animal.

“I…uh, I’m gonna finish this upstairs,” Peter said to no one in particular as he got up from the table, taking his plate with him. “Let you two….uh, _yeah_.”

Sometimes advanced hearing was a blessing - especially if you’re out on Patrol - but it can also be a curse – especially if you live with newlyweds. There’s a reason Spider-Man’s been spotted around Queens more often. The Honeymoon Phase was one thing, but the bickering was another level of awkward Peter thought it was best he wasn’t there for. He caught a snippet of it on his way to the bathroom.

_“Is that why you got up last night? You said you were going to get milk!”_

_“Why would I be getting milk at one in the morning?!”_

Peter turned the knob on the faucet to cut out the noise. Luckily, the shower finally woke him up. He wasn’t ashamed to say he ate his sandwich in the shower, the hand holding it sticking out of the shower to keep it dry.

Afterwards, he hurried to get dressed in jeans and one of his typical science pun t-shirts, throwing on faded blue button up over it. He grabbed his beat-up red Converse high-tops, shouldered his backpack, and jogged into the living room just in time to see Happy adjusting his boring black tie in the foyer mirror.

“What’re you still doing here?” Peter attempted to casually ask, glancing at his watch.

“Making sure you don’t take these.” May jangled a set of car keys, holding them up from the Star Wars Rebel insignia key fob. Peter opened his mouth to protest but May held up her hand. “Don’t even think about it, mister.”

Since Happy and May got married, there were a few _material_ things Peter had to adjust to – like the nice townhouse in the suburbs of Queens Happy had bought, Peter’s own bathroom _inside of_ his room, and the fact they now owned three – _three_ – cars. It made sense for Happy to have one and May grumbled a bit about why she would need one when the subway was just fine….that is until she saw her Chevy Spark. The color was off-white, but she lovingly referred to it as ‘toasted marshmallow’ and dubbed the car ‘ _the S’mores’_.

Peter’s came about a touch unexpectedly.

_While Happy and May were on their Honeymoon in Italy, Peter stayed with the Starks. He’d be woken up by FRIDAY under the threat of activating the fire sprinklers if Peter didn’t meet Mr. Stark in the garage in the next five minutes. Peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure Pepper would let him, but it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take so early in the morning._

_The elevator took him to the underground garage but…..nothing was there. All of the Stark’s cars were missing except for one sleek, metallic midnight blue Audi parked in the center. Peter was too fixated on the car to notice Tony and a barely visibly pregnant Pepper walk around the car. He also didn’t notice Tony toss a something at him until it impacted his shoulder. He tore his eyes away from the car to pick the set of keys up._

_“Oh my god,” Peter whispered, glancing between Tony and the car with wide eyes. “Did you get me a car?!”_

_“I got you a car,” Tony confirmed with an ear-to-ear grin._

_Pepper nudged him with her elbow. “We got you a car-”_

_“Happy’s a married man now; he can’t be chauffeuring all of us around anymore. We drew straws and you made the cut, kid.”_

_Pepper rolled her eyes, knowing full well Tony had spent months looking for the perfect car and was just waiting for an excuse to give it to Peter. It took a while for Pepper to assure Peter that the car as in fact his, only for Peter to insist that it was all a joke, before Tony finally shoved the keys into Peter’s hand._

_When May came home and saw the Audi in the driveway, well, Happy likes to consider it the first time he had to choose between Iron Man’s bodyguard and May’s husband and would appreciate never being put into that position ever again._

“Think about what? May, come on-”

“So you _weren’t_ planning on skipping decathlon practice to make a trip up to the compound after school?” Happy asked just as casually as Peter had. He raised his eyebrow.

“It’s Thursday. The Compound is for every _other_ weekend and you went last week.”

Peter threw his head back and sighed. “What about the Tower? I _am_ an actual intern there, you know.”

“Oh, I am _keenly_ aware of that,” Happy muttered, thinking about all the false alarms he’s responded to as a result of Peter’s _‘experiments’_. Without looking back at him, May slapped his chest with the back of her hand. He had the good graces to wince. “You know you only have lab privileges when Tony’s there and Tony isn’t there, so nice try.”

“I can do other things that don’t involve the lab, Happy.” It only took a look for Peter to crumble. “Like, I could…you know, do…. _paperwork?”_

“ _No_ , Peter.” May slipped Peter’s car keys into her purse and smiled kindly. “Tony’ll text you when there’s anything you should know – as Peter Parker, Intern for SI, _or_ as the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.”

***

It’s thirty-three minutes from the townhouse in Forest Hills to 36 Ave in Astoria, Queens. He was already pushing the late bell as he apologetically shuffled his way to the train doors. He wasn’t too concerned about who saw him Spider-Man Parkour down the terminal stairs, Captain America gazelle run across the football field in record time and jumped across the main street to where Ned was waiting at the foot of the stairs where they usually met up before school. He was tapping his foot impatiently and kept glancing between his watch and the front doors.

“Dude, _come on_! We’re going to be late.”

“Sorry, sorry, overslept.” Peter followed a step behind Ned. They wouldn’t have enough time to drop their tings off at their lockers, so they booked it to Home Room. The late bell rang overhead a moment after they skidded into the room, noticeably out of breath.

“Nice of you to make it, gentlemen,” Mrs. Peralta raised an eyebrow at them. “Find your seats.”

She walked down the isles passing out inane flyers and various school admin paperwork. Given it was a thirty-minute buffer, the majority of the class ignored her and went about their own work. Peter and Ned were no different; although, they were polite enough to thank her before stuffing the papers into their bookbags. 

“Did you finish your BC guide?” Ned asked, pulling his own out.

“About that,” Peter pulled out his own work – littered with equations, scratch marks, and little tears where his eraser ripped the paper.

“You don’t need notes when you have knowledge,” Ned reassured him. Peter scoffed and slid his work across to Ned. Ned grimaced as he looked it over. “But yeah, you need notes.”

He slid the paper back to Peter, including his own work. Peter sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“You can pay me back by telling me about your,” he glanced around the room before lowering his voice to whisper, “ _patrol_.”

For the rest of Homeroom and the walk over to first period Spanish IV, Peter told Ned about the previous night’s Patrol. While no one bothered to overhear their conversations on a normal day, MJ suggested they code their ‘Patrol Review’ like they were talking about a video game. It wasn’t that hard since S.I released an _Iron Man_ game app that featured _Spider-Man_ as a character to unlock like the rest of the Avengers. Unbeknownst to Peter, Pepper and May conspired for a portion of the in-app purchases to pad his college fund.

Ned had to keep his sputtering and excitement to whispers to keep Mr. Cervantes from noticing them. That did last long. Between Ned’s excited whispering, comically wide eyes, and occasionally prodding Peter with his elbow whenever Peter tried to pay attention to the lesson, Mr. Cervantes conducted the rest of his lesson from behind Peter and Ned’s seats.

The rest of the day went on similarly in the classes Peter shared with Ned, Ned resorting to spam texting when they weren’t together. At lunch, Ned furiously waved M.J. over to their table to impatiently catch her up on what happened the other night at Coney. For the most part she remained her typical impassively stoic self, emotion briefly flashing when Ned depicted the plane crash with two opened pudding cups.

Overhead, the sound of the _Midtown News_ report’s intro music drifted through the loudspeakers. Jason and Betty appeared on several screens around the lunch room; a red banner at the bottom of the screen announced the _Breaking News Report_. While Betty and Jason took turns awkwardly narrating the stilted script, they showed actual TV news footage of the downed HYDRA plane on Coney Island Beach, switching periodically to clips of SHIELD agents and a few Avengers taking everything into custody. The Department of Damage Control pulled up for clean-up not long after the Avenger’s Quinjet took off.

Ned was incredibly hyped because Queen’s own Spider-Man was on TV with the Avengers. It quickly turned to annoyance when Flash, from a few tables over, was loudly boasted about “ _my boy Spider-Man_ ” this and that.

The news hadn’t shown any footage of the pod-ship, but it only reminded Peter to text Tony. Again. He had been doing it all morning between classes, checking his phone throughout the day for a reply. _Nothing_.

“May I should go up there.”

“To the Compound? To see the U.F.O?!” Ned cried out. Peter and M.J. both turned to shush him, gently swatting at his arms. “Sorry. Sorry. _But it’s just so cool, dude!_ ”

“Yeah, it is, but you should project it.”

“Anyway, you should go up there,” M.J. told him, turning back to her sketch pad. “You just got _un_ -grounded for last month’s debacle.”

“Sorry to say it, dude, but she’s right.” Ned winced as if it hurt him to say it. “May flipped out over a little stabbing; how do you think she’ll react when you run away upstate, breaking into the Compound, and play with a U.F.O.” 

“Those two aren’t even in the same _realm_ ,” Peter countered.

“Think May cares?” When Peter didn’t answer, Ned continued. “You said Mr. Stark isn’t answering you, but what about Dr. Banner? If anyone’s gonna be working with Tony on an alien pod-thing it’d be him.”

Peter hung back a little from Ned and M.J. as they walked to AP Calculus BC so he could call Dr. Banner. After being sent to voicemail twice, he gave up. He decided to bite the bullet and text Happy. Again, he wasn’t helpful.

_If Tony wants you to know anything, he’ll call._ It took him less than two seconds to change the conversation. _You should be studying, not texting. Did you go to that study-hall session_?

Peter threw back his head and groaned. So much for Plan F – _failure_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow @littlebigmac2-library on Tumblr for updates and anything else!


	6. Goldilocks and the Three Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asgard makes a shocking appearance and sheds a little light on who the girl might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I actually updated. Sorry about the long wait, but school has stated back up again and as a first year teacher I'm kinda swamped at the moment. But hey, it's the weekend!   
> Some notes:  
> \- “Borrowed” a J.R.R. Tolkien quote from Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. You’ll know it when you see it; if not, I’ve marked it with (*).   
> \- HEAVY on the Game of Thrones scenery. And yes, I am “using” the Targaryen house sigil, I am aware. All credit where credit is due.

The entire team had gathered in the infirmary’s waiting room while Dr. Cho and her team tended to the unknown girl. They were all spread around the room, lounging in chairs, leaning against walls. Bruce had taken to pacing, occasionally twitching as veins of green crawled up his neck before receding back again.

Tony had been unscrambling FRIDAY’s systems and got her back online. It seems the computer FRIDAY had detected earlier was coming from the pale orange, membrane-like substance lining the interior the girl was confined in. The pod itself was merely a housing unit for the A.I.

Meanwhile, inside the Observatory on Asgard, Heimdahl swung his sword from his back and placed it inside the device that would open the Bifrost for Thor, Loki, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.

“I await your return with the Valyrian child, my King.”

Moments later, the Asgardians landed on the Bifrost’s designated landing zone Tony had affectionately named “ _The Crop Circle_ ”. If Thor and Heimdahl continued to have no regard for lawn maintenance, Tony left the little patch for Thor’s comings and goings. The crack of thunder in the previously clear sky would be the Avenger’s only warning to their guests’ arrival.

Loki furiously waved his hand to open a portal into the infirmary’s waiting room. Anger radiated from them; however, it come off Loki in violent waves. Loki stepped forward, but Thor threw his hand up to restrain his brother. Loki’s silently seethed, for the moment a least, settling for clenching and unclenching his hands at his side. The others carefully took notice of how his magic burned around his fists like green flames licking at his skin.

Loki was in a dangerous mood the team had not seen since the Battle of New York; however it wasn’t traumatically induced madness driving him, but a clear-minded intent…..for _what_ , the Avengers did not know.

Bruce flinched at the hard look Thor threw everyone who was in the Observation Room.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor growled in Old Norse _Æsir. “See to the child. Volstagg, guard the door. No one gets through you_ _.”_

Not bothering with doors, Loki portaled himself away. Medical technicians, nurses, and doctors rushed out the infirmary doors and spilled into the waiting room moments later. Volstagg took hold of the security door before it could close and made his way through. On the other side of the clear doors, he stood firm with his battle axe bared.

“And just what does your psychotic brother think he’s doing-”

Thor’s rage caused thunder to roll overhead. As his anger grew, so did the thunder and the accompanying crackle of lightning in the distance. He stalked closer to his team members. His baby blues sparked lighter.

“Careful, Director. He may be the only one to fix the damage you Midgardians have wrought.”

“Wait a minute, Thor.” Steve held up his hand and walked forward. “We rescued her from HYDRA-”

“This is your idea of a _rescue_?” Sif mocked, coming up to stand beside her king. “Your machine nearly _killed_ her!”

“Watch it there, Xena,” Tony pointed his StarkPad at her. “We had _no way_ of knowing she was in there!”

“So you use a crude Bifrost device to open something you had no idea what it was made out of or what was inside? You truly are only a genius on one world, Stark.”

“The ship’s materials and markings weren’t Asgardian,” Bruce stepped forward to defend their actions before Tony could respond. “If you’re saying we should have called you guys, again, we had no way of knowing. We were getting nothing from examining the exterior of the pod; the only option we had left was going inside. Yes, the method was pretty invasive-”

Fandral snorted. He moved to stand on the other side of Thor. “Had you no _other_ option? Perhaps the scientist you have in your detention cell would have rendered his assistance after some careful persuasion?”

Maria shared a look with Fury. “And just how do you-”

“Fair Lady Maria, I have heard tales of how your intelligence exceeds your already considerable beauty. You know Heimdahl sees all-”

“Heimdahl can shove it-”

“ _Enough_!” Thor bellowed as thunder crashed overhead, silencing Fury’s remark.

“Thor,” Wanda called out to him gently, walking to the center of the room to act as a barrier between the bewildered Avengers and the livid Asgardians. Her voice held no note of caution and her stance was not that of someone intimidated. “Tell us what is happening. Your emotions are…. _complex_. I am having trouble reading it without digging too deeply.”

“I would rather you did not, Lady Wanda,” Thor spoke softly, yet held the same ominous rumble of boulders.

“The perhaps we shall talk, yes?” She cocked her head to the side, staring up at him so that her dark hair swept over her shoulder. “Tempers are high, trigger-fingers are itchy. Allow cooler heads to prevail?”

“What does our temperature have to do with this?” Fandral glanced over his shoulder to Hogun who simply raised his eyebrow in shared confusion. He turned back to the Midgardians. “This is an Asgardian issue. It has nothing to do with you; I would say you have done quite enough.”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Prince Charming.” Rhodney stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest. “So if you want to get at the girl why don’t you sit your pretty-boy asses down and explain what the hell’s brought Asgard to our doorstep.”

“You are right, my friend,” Thor conceded after a moment’s thought, tilting his head in acknowledgement. He consciously took a step back, lowering _Stormbreaker_ till its head settled on the ground. The others followed suit. “We have come to your world prepared to battle friends as if we were wild bilgesnipe.”

“ _Bilgesnipe_?” Bucky mouthed, turning to Sam for an explanation. Sam muttered in reply under his breath, “ _Fuck if I know. Space shit.”_

“We were no better.” Steve held out his hand and Thor grasped him by the wrist. “Best excuse I can make is that we’re all a little freaked out by this. Last thing we’d think we’d find in that pod would be a young girl.”

“That is understandable, Captain,” Sif turned to look at her companions. “We, too, are troubled by your findings.”

“Fantastic. Now that we’ve got the circle-jerk over with-” Fury pushed off the wall he was leaning on. Tony and Clint snorted until their respective partners – Rhodney and Natasha – swatted them with varying levels of severity. “Wanna fill us in?”

***

While Volstagg remained in the infirmary with Loki (despite Steve’s assurance that the room was secure), the others gathered in the conference room to debrief. Tony supplied photos and video footage as Steve stood at the front of the room narrating the intel they had amassed on List before their strike on the HYDRA base the night before. From there they moved into the plane crash on Coney Island and ended with the girl being brought into the infirmary.

When Steve resumed his seat at Fury’s left, Thor stood. “Heimdahl was overcome with the same light and noise you had suffered after puncturing the pod’s hull. It was a distress signal, one which had been building for some time. Your interference merely released it. How HYDRA had managed to open the pod without triggering it, I do not know.”

“Have you identified who sent the distress signal? Or perhaps why it was sent?” Vision asked.

“That, my friends, is the reason for our hostile arrival. The signal was Valyrian.”

Thor sat down and nodded to Hogun. The gravity of Thor’s tone held the others off from asking questions just yet. Hogun stood and slid a metal disc into the center of the table. Wonderfully realistic images were projected from the disc as he spoke, walking around the table with his hands clasped behind his back.

“The Valyrians were an ancient race – as old as the Æsir and just as powerful. But they are no more.” Being projected by the disc was an idyllic blue and green world much like Earth yet with a single mountain range acting as a ring around the world. Quickly, fire and flames engulfed the world and turned everything black. Rivers of magma ran over the dead world before it imploded from the inside out. “You are familiar with our belief in Ragnarök, yes? The Valyrians met their Doom long ago. Not much is known of what happened.”

“How come?” Natasha spoke up. “Heimdahl’s all-seeing, right? What about Odin?”

“The All-Father had barely begun his reign when word reached Asgard of the Doom.” Sif explained. “Heimdahl, Thor, Loki – the _new_ gods you have come to know - had not yet been born.”

“Although Valyria was once of Yddgdrasil, Odin had not yet united the realms.” Fandral added. “They were not under Asgard’s protection.”

“History became legend*,” Hogun continued. “Legend become myth*. And for thousands of years, the Doom of Valyria has gone unanswered.”

“My father considered Valyria’s Emperor to be a close friend and ally. He hoped that one day the great houses of Valyria and Asgard would be bound by more than just friendship, but by blood.”

“Tell me you’re not here for some jailbait,” Fury asked, raising his eyebrow. “Intergalactic diplomatic immunity, my ass, Odinson. That doesn’t fly around these parts.”

“I do not know what this ‘ _jailbait_ ’ is you speak of, but if you are inferring that my King prefers the company of _children-_ ” Fandral was beginning to rise from his seat, his hand already reaching for his dagger.

“Sit down, Fandral,” Sif clasped his forearm and yanked him back to his seat. “Thor does not need you defending his honor.”

“Although it is appreciated,” Thor smirked at the scoundrel who has on more than one occasion been the subject of such slander by jealous swains. “As I was saying, Odin took the loss of Valyria and its people to heart and has taken great pains since its destruction to gather any and all information from that time.”

“Like Valyria- _ology_ at whatever magic school you guys have?” Bucky asked.

Hogun’s lip twitched. “Something to that effect, yes. The All-Father created a special council that seeks out information - written accounts and documentation, artifacts, things of that nature- to be examined and verified for authenticity. With every discovery, a piece of the puzzle is put back into place.”

“Looks like a natural disaster to me,” Tony commented, watching as the world collapsed in on itself again. “Still doesn’t answer the question why Goldilocks and the Three Bears are all hot and bothered over this.”

“Besides the fact this girl could be the last of her people?” Bruce turned in his chair to look at him. “The pod acted as a stasis chamber – she could have been in there since the beginning. Escaped whatever…. _doom_ these guys are talking about.”

“Start from the beginning, Hogun,” Steve asked.

“The Valyrian Council has determined the Doom happened in two parts – the Agalan Uprising and then World Death not long after.”

The disc projected a grainy image of a man straddling a bench, talking animatedly as he was surrounded by men, women, and even a handful of children who appeared to be listening intently to what he was saying. Even sitting, he was a noticeably slight man and his attire gave way to his low birth – a beyond well-worn, once green cloak that had been faded by the sun draped his thin shoulders, over brown doublet and breeches that matched his hair and eyes. His small beard and temples were well-peppered with grey.

“Davos. Leader of the Agalan Uprising. Not much is known about him except his prior conviction for treason. He had been banished from Valyria; however, the action turned him into a national figure and was subsequently smuggled back on world. As he began to radicalize more followers against the Valyrians, they began calling him their _Kaerīnio_ \- their Savior. Archived correspondences from an Hurctarian merchant indicates Davos created the Voktys, his priests that promoted Agalan pride and anti-Valyrian rhetoric, and expressed dissatisfaction with how their species has been treated since their immigration as refugees. For thousands of years, the two species had co-existed peacefully, or as peacefully as their biology would allow.”

The disc began showing a series of images of young men and women speaking in taverns, on the streets, in stone rotundas to large crowds. “The Voktys were charismatic, educated men and women and their passion for the cause attracted new members with speeches blaming Valyrians, and specifically the Astapori-”

“The royal family,” Thor supplied.

“-for Agalan problems. Davos’s forces developed what Midgardians would refer to as nationalist terrorism, viewing the Valyrians as an oppressive force. The Voktys preached that a total revolution would solve their problems – if Agalans took control to make Valyria great again.”

“This is where history, speculation, and rumor become intermixed,” Sif supplied. “Certain events are known, yet the details of those events are not. The Council has managed to piece together a pseudo-timeline.”

The scene coming from the disc burst into frenetic activity as the capital city of Astapor slid into view atop the highest of the three hills. The city covered the shore as far as the projection would show. Between the buildings were broad roads lined with trees and wandering cobblestone streets. Seven huge gates were built into the city walls, high and strong, as the entrances into the capital aside from the port. Each was protected by a portcullis, heavy doors, and armed guards.

Above it all was the Red Keep, the fortress of the _Drekilords_ ; seven huge drum-towers crowned with iron ramparts, an immense barbican, vaulted halls and covered bridges, massive curtain wall studded with archers’ nests, all fashioned of pale red stone. Black banners flew from the battlements where a three-headed _dreki_ breathed fire.

Throughout the morning, and into the briefing, Tony had been getting messages from Peter. It seemed the boy wasn’t thrilled about being ignored because Bruce’s began to vibrate on the table. When he turned it over to check the ID, he smiled and turned the screen to show Tony. Tony hit the ignore for Bruce.

“The Sack of Astapor consisted of a devastating assault on the city and its Valyrian inhabitants by the Agalans both in and around the city. 10,000 of Davos’s _azantys_ – his soldiers – brutally rampaged through the city, slaughtering Valyrians of all ages they could find. The conflict ended in an Agalan victory and the disappearance of the royal family - Emperor Jorah, Empress Volanta, and their three children. It seems much of the Red Keep was connected underground, perhaps for this very reason.”

Bruce’s phone began to vibrate again with another call from Peter. Bruce chuckled as Tony huffed, hitting the button more forcefully than the screen deserved. He put Bruce’s phone in his jacket pocket incase the kid called again.

The images on the disc switched from a burning city and indiscriminate slaughter to that of an imposing castle fortress of black stone seated on the face of _Drekimont_ , the mountain volcano that gave rise to the island. Its pale grey steam rose from its active vents while smoke rose from its peak. Small dragons framed the gates, their claws holding torches, their tales formed archways and staircases along the outer walls. The great door to the castle was set in the gaping maw of a stone dragon, its fangs shimmered like obsidian glass in the torch light. The smell of salty air, smoke, and brimstone were nearly tangible – a quirk of the disc’s magic. 

“The royal family was later discovered at their second stronghold, Drekistone, the ancestral home of the Empress’s people, with their remaining forces months later. Legend has it that six wild _dreki_ – Midgardian “dragons” – made their lairs in the smoky caverns of the volcano. They say that the _dreki_ went in and the first Valyrians came out.”

The disc switched to an image of a brutally beaten man – his once sandy blond hair reddened with dried blood, half of his face dark a swollen, ligature bruises around his neck. Yet, it was his charcoal eyes that captured attention – calm, resigned, and just the briefest _hint_ of defiance.

“The smallfolk were average humanoid – neither Valyrian or Agalan - villagers living below the _Drekimont,_ tilling the land and culling the sea,” Sif introduced. “It is from the forced confession of this man, Willen, that we know what happened at Drekistone.”

“The elders of the Smallfolk betrayed the royal family to the _azantys_ who had come to port in exchange for control of the island,” Hogun continued. “Willen, overhearing the men celebrate in a tavern, snuck into the castle in an attempt to warn the family. His mother had served under Empress Volanta’s family since she was a child, raising him to be loyal to the Drekilords as well. It was too late by the time he arrived to warn the  guards, the _azantys_ were beginning their siege.”

“As Willen tells it,” Fandral took over the narration, “Jorah charged Willen with seeing his children to safety as Jorah went back for Volanta. She had given birth earlier that day and was unable to travel unassisted. Willen was to take the children to the mountain shafts that would lead to a rocky, hidden path beneath the _Drekimont_ and wait beneath the mountain to regroup. The guards tasked with escorting Willen were killed, buying them enough time to escape.” Fandral’s voice dropped somberly. “But not before they could hear the _azantys_ celebrating.”

The next image to appear was an actual image from the siege, recovered from an old Voktys’s journal. It showed a man cheerfully posing with two mutilated corpses at his feet like one would to a prize game stag. There man dead on the floor appeared to have drowned in his own blood. The woman beside him, dressed in a bloodied nightgown, was lying faceup so that the deep slash from her womb to her jaw would be visible. The golden stranger stood between the bodies, holding a bloodied pillowcase.

“Kildarian the Kingslayer. He was rewarded handsomely upon presenting the corpses of the royal family as fealty to Davos. Such is war to the Agalans. To kill a king – an _Emperor_ – is one thing, yes, but to openly slaughter innocents…it is said that the Empress was still in her birthing bed when the _azantys_ tore the child from her breast,” Hogun turned his back on the room to stare blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows behind them, “and dashed his head against a wall before her.”

The room was silent as they all took in the disturbing image. That all had committed unspeakable acts in their past, some darker than others, but _never_ had they reached the level of brutality and depravity that the man in the photo cheerfully had. No one blamed Thor for the dark storm that began to brew in the previously clear sky.

Sif’s voice was soft yet held hard anger beneath it. “Half of the Astapori remained. As long as the ‘ _drekispawn’_ were alive, Davis feared his revolution end if the children were to contact off-world allies. While the _azantys_ were committing mass genocide, the voktys were spreading paranoia and fear in an attempt to flush out whomever was hiding them.”

The disc thankfully switched to an artist’s rendering of a farmhouse engulfed in flames, dark shapes lying on the ground before it while a distressed blond man struggled against his captors.  

“According to Willen’s confession, he smuggled the children and his own family off the island and into the Drekiwoods. It was less than a month before the _azantys_ found them. The Smallfolk elders told them of his family’s cabin when Willen’s involvement in the children’s escape become clear. Velos, the eldest child, had become ill along the journey and could not escape with Essos and Elyria. She had died in her sickbed by the time the _azantys_ found them. Willen’s family was killed for his treason. Willen was arrested and transported back to Astapor with the princess’s body.”

“Wait wait wait,” Rodney leaned forward in his seat as Hogun shut off the disc, placed it back inside his tunic, and took his seat beside Fandral. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”

“Yes, what about the other two – Essos and Elyria?” Wanda asked. “You said they had escaped.”

“Exactly,” Thor sighed. “The fate of the prince and princess is still unknown. There are always rumors, yes, but all that was known is lost or with the Council.

“Kildarian and Davos?” Natasha asked. It was too bad all this happened long ago or else she’d be itching for mission.

“Their deaths were meet too swiftly,” Sif sneered. “Davos declared the Astapori dead, although he only displayed Jorah, Volanta, and Velos’s bodies. Soon after, he declared the Hunts – Valyrian men, women, and children were to be hunted down for sport. Their wings were cut off, living or dead, and mounted as trophies, their feathers used as quills, and so on. It became their world’s commerce. Not long after was World Death. All perished.”

“Thank the Norns,” Fandral growled beneath his breath.

“That still doesn’t answer why you’re here for the girl,” Maria stated. “She may be the last of her species, sure, but that doesn’t explain Loki about ready to kill us all.”

Thor turned the full weight of his gaze upon each member at the table. There would be no misunderstandings out the importance of this moment. “Heimdahl believes she is not only the last Valyrian, but the last _Astapori_ …Princess Elyria.”


	7. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki confirms a theory but comes across another roadblock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at that - I've finally updated!! The life of a first year teacher juggling *attempting* a Master's degree is not a life conducive of free time. But hey, better late than never. With any luck, *crossing fingers*, it won't be too long before the next update. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“And just what makes the Valyrians so special the Agalans would want to eradicate them?” 

Dr. Helen Cho stood back, accompanied by Volstagg, watching Loki surround himself and the unconscious girl on the bed in his fluid emerald green and smoky-black magic wisps. Although Loki’s magic clouded her appearance, Helen could vividly remember the girl’s distinct features her team was able to note before Loki’s arrival - nearly white platinum-blonde hair that had been flecked with dried blood; soft violet eyes with a thing, silvery-grey ring around her iris; her upper cuspid teeth were just long enough at 13mm to be noticeable, yet not quite to cheesy vampire-length; cracked and torn nails, naturally white opaque from the cuticles; and her pointed ears measured 2 ½ inches from the inner-curve to the tip. When taking blood samples, her assistant was stunned to see she was collecting black “ _ goo _ ” that wasn’t quite the consistency of blood but thicker. 

Via some version of Asgardian Holographics, Loki had tuned the good doctor into the rest of the team’s briefing when her “ _ incessant _ ” questioning became too much. The graphics cut off just after the history lesson.

“Were you not  _ listening _ , Doctor?” Loki sneered. “The filthy mutts-”

“Yes, I picked up on that much, thank you,” Helen said, unaffected by Loki’s tone. She stepped closer, yet Volstagg’s outstretched hand kept her from getting too close. “ _ Why _ ?”

“If I may, Healer Cho,” Volstagg gently pulled her back farther, turning them away from Loki. 

He held open his palm for the holo-disc once more. Programmed with the archives from the Council, Volstagg had all the information one could require on that dark time. He opened the schematics for Valyrian and Agalan biology, bringing them up side-by-side. On the rare occasion he had reason to venture into Loki’s private office, Volstagg had seen a poster of a four-armed, four-legged naked man in a circle hanging on the wall. The Holo-images were very similar to that one. 

A Valyrian man stood beside an Agalan man. Helen couldn’t tell the difference between the two if it weren’t for the label beneath their images. Both looked like average men one might find on Earth. A moment later, a set of wings unfurled from the Valyrian’s back, twice the length of his arms. His eyes shone, his teeth elongated into points, and his nails grew into talons. 

Although fierce, there was an innate beauty to the subtle grace and elegance of the man’s strength. He stood taller, chest out and head held higher. 

The Agalan had a startlingly different reaction. His eyes glowed savagely red and his lips curled back into a menacing snarl, the dry skin cracking as it was pulled. His shoulders hunched into himself as his body violently convulsed – his limbs elongated, joints and sockets popping and grinding – and took the shape of another animal. It was sickening to hear, let alone watch it all unfold. 

“An Amorok wolf, Doctor.” Volstagg explain. “We have something similar on Asgard.”

“Shapeshifters,” Helen murmured, reaching the tips of her fingers out to the projections. “Marvelous creatures.”

Behind them, glass shattered as a result from the frost emanated from Loki’s cool blue wisps and trendles. It crawled menacingly across the floor and up to crack the wall and fracture the windows in spidering patterns. A low and dangerous growl was building in his chest; already, what little skin was visible to them was tinged blue. 

This time, Volstagg was none too gentle in pulling Helen further behind him and towards the door. He gripped his axe tighter knowing it wouldn’t make a difference if the Prince decided to strike. Within moments, he ripped open the door and forcibly backed Helen into the corridor while keeping his eyes on Loki for the slightest hint of movement. Once the door closed, Volstagg turned, grabbed Helen by the arm, and walked her down the corridor as fast as he could until they were past the waiting room and safely in an elevator. Only then did Volstagg release her. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the mirrored wall with a sign.

“ _ Norns _ , woman, have you no sense? Your carelessness nearly turned Loki Jotun!”

“My carelessness?” She turned to him, taken aback. “And what was it that I said?”

“You  _ complemented  _ an Agalan, Healer!” Volstagg raised his eyebrow as if it was the most obvious breach of polite society. “That is highly frowned upon. Are there not words or people that would elicit the same reaction as the Prince’s if mentioned amongst company?”

“Not as strongly, but I can see your point.” 

She turned to the control pad and selected the floor her office was housed on. It was silent between the two for the remainder of the ride. They didn’t speak again until Helen closed her office door behind Volstagg and signled for him to sit on the loveseat against the floor-to-ceiling window. Unsurprisingly, the man took up the entire couch. 

“I am assuming Loki cannot hear us?” Volstagg inclined his head. “Please, tell me more. You’ve given me their background, you’ve shown me what they look like. I am a doctor, Volstagg; show me their biology. Their genetics, DNA, chromosomes, cell structures. Things of that nature. I’ll learn more that way than from any history lesson.”

“Very well, Healer, though I am unfamiliar with some of the words you used.” He took out the holographic disc once more and pulled up the Valyrian files. “Everything you require is on this disc, not just the history. Simply ask and you shall receive it.”

Sometime after Helen immersed herself in the overwhelming amount of biological and chemical information, Volstagg silently excused himself from her office and returned to guarding the young woman’s door. 

* * *

 

It was only when Loki had thoroughly examined the girl and was satisfied with the safeguards he placed within and outside her room, that he left her side for the first time in hours. He stepped outside her room and together he and Volstagg portaled into the living room and open kitchen area the others divided themselves between after the initial briefing. He wasn’t as ostentatious as Doctor Strange is - spinning portals of sparkling, spitting gold. No, his were more subtle - a silent rip within space and time that opened within the shadows - his presence only known when he made it so. 

As always, Hogun was the first to notice him and drew Thor’s attention. When the Thor stood, the rest of the group turned their attention to Loki and Volstagg as well. 

“Brother,” Thor greeted with a nod. “The Valyrian child. All is well?”

“As it can be,” Loki accepted the drink Natasha gave him. He took a moment to sip the liquor to bathe his tongue in its warmth. “She is stable thanks to the initial efforts of Doctor Cho and her team. I have placed her in a deep sleep to allow her mind and body time to cope with her less than  _ ideal  _ awakening.”

Bruce looked down at his tea cup and shifted his feet. Tony, meanwhile, downed his glass of scotch and left his seat to refill his glass. The liquor wasn’t sitting well with him like it normally would have. 

Loki turned his gaze away from the scientists. “I will know when she wakes. Naturally and in her own time.”

“I assume her safety will not be an issue?”

Loki scoffed and shook his head. “I am no longer an untried youth of a thousand,  _ playing  _ at Seidr, Brother. No one shall go near her - with the exception of myself and Doctor Cho - or they shall face my considerable wrath. Will that be enough for you, your Majesty?”

Thor chuckled. “Do not mistake my caution for doubt in your abilities.”

“Now that you’ve had a chance to look her over,” Steve stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest. “What can you tell us?”

“I can tell you that she is indeed Valyrian, yet…..not. HYDRA has changed her on a cellular level in ways I am as of yet unable to determine. Not without their reports or until she awakens.”

“We have a team going over everything we’ve collected from the crash site and List’s compound.” Natasha assured him. “They’ll have what you need in a couple of hours.”

“What  _ we  _ need.” Tony corrected. “No way Magic Man is running the show on this one.”

“What Tony means to say,” Bruce tempered, placing his tea cup on the bar counter and shooting Tony a pointed look. “Given our less than ideal meeting and if HYDRA’s done something to her, we’d like….we  _ want  _ to help.”

“Our info, our labs, our terf, not like we wouldn’t be involved anyway.” Fury stated.

“What can you tell us,” Steve shot a look over his shoulder to glare at Fury, who indifferently stared back, “about the girl. Thor’s told us some pretty out there things. Find anything to support that?”

With an apathetic flick of his wrist as he walked further into the living room to sit on the arm of the couch, Loki brought up the image of a faceless person to stand in the middle of the room as the others gathered around. The name ‘Elyria’ was scrawled in gold runes above her. Loki projected another faceless, genderless image beside Elyria’s. Although physically identical, there was one noticeable difference.

“As I said, the girl is Valyrian. However, based on my examination, there are inconsistencies. To the left is the girl, the right is what a typical Valyrian girl should be.”

“She doesn’t have wings,” Bucky pointed out, nodding with his chin. “She supposed to have wings like the other one, right?”

“You mentioned the Hunts Davos initiated,” Vision spoke up, circling the girl’s projection. He pointed to her back - two white, raised scars stood out on her back, one beside each shoulder blade. “Her wings were removed.”

“Polite way to phrase ‘poaching’,” Clint muttered.

“Butchers,” Natasha sneered. 

“Not quite,” Loki countered. “As I said, HYDRA made some  _ adjustments _ . She has wings, their magic has a resonance I reach out and feel. They are there, yet ...hidden somehow.”

“And you have the experimentation reports?” Fandral asked Natasha who nodded. “Then all we can do is wait, I’m afraid.”

“And her identity?” Thor asked softly, stepping closer to the projection to run the back of his hand gently over the girl’s serene face. “Is she whom we believe her to be?”

“Only those of the Astapori family, those who have descended from the First Vlayrien, could have features such as hers - the eyes, hair, and blood. If her wings were visible, they would most certainly be black. I would say her secondary biology is that of a  _ Sovereign _ .”

“So it is true, then.” Siff breathed, astonished. She rose to her feet and stood beside her King. “You have found her.”

“And for those not familiar with whatever the hell you’re talking about?” Sam huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Hogun stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “She is Elyria Astapori the First of Her Name, Empress of the Valyria, Lady of Astapor, the Red Keep, and Drekistone, Protector of the Realm.”

“The last Valyrian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Ao3 isn't your thing, you can always reach out to me on Tumblr (@littlebigmac2-library)


	8. Show and Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The research team looking into Doctor Lists's files briefs Natasha on what they've found.....and it's not a pleasant story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, what do you know, this story (and me apparently) aren't dead! Being a first year teacher is a bitch but my kids are amazing (sometimes) so hopefully the wait is worth it for whoever's following the story.

“ _ Miss Romanoff _ ,” FRIDAY’s soft voice broke the stilted silence of the common room. “ _ Doctor Harris and his team  are requesting your presence in Conference Room Twelve at your earliest convenience _ .”

“Why aren’t you this nice to me?” Tony asked nowhere in particular as he stood up from the bar stool. He shrugged back into his Tom Ford blazer and downed the last of his glass. “You know what, don’t answer that. I know you have favorites.”

“Doesn’t help that Nat scares the shit out of most people,” Sam chuckled, nudeing her shoulder as he walked past her into the kitchen. “Why not the Orwellian nightmare waiting to happen?”

“Again,” Clint pitched in around a mouthful of gummy bears he had in his pocket. 

Nat batted her eyelashes and gave him her Widow’s smile, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his pants. She pulled herself into Sam’s back to breathe lightly on the back of his neck until the little hairs stood up. 

“They know my bite,” she snapped her teeth next to his ear, smiling more when he shivered, “is worse than my bark.”

Sam stumbled as Nat pushed him away from her. Rodney chuckled. “Down girl. You’re making bird boy blush.”

Sam mumbled something close to, “No pizza rolls for you, cyborg,” as he walked into the kitchen. 

“Are you children finished?” Loki sighed. He took their silence as confirmation and opened a portal into Harris’s conference room. “Ladies first.”

Nat patted Loki’s chest as she walked past him. Tony and Bruce followed, although their trip was a touch cooler than they both would have liked and walked out the other side with a shiver. Nat was seated at the head of the conference table with Helen on her left. Tony was pulling out the chair to Nat’s right when it vanished from his hand. It happened again when he reached for the next. He turned to look at Bruce and saw the chairs on the entire right side were gone. 

Loki offered a thin-lipped smile and gestured to the seats beside Helen and the other squirrely scientists. The scientists were used to Bruce’s calm energy and the occasional erratic drop-ins by Tony, but they were all uneasey from the amount of  _ dominance  _ Loki and Natasha seemed to radiate throughout the room.

Tony flipped Loki his  middle finger as he took his seat beside Helen. Bruce didn’t comment, only shook his head and followed. 

“If you’re done measuring dicks,” Natasha drawled as Loki brought the chairs back and sat beside her. She nodded to Harris. “What do you have?”

“From what I’ve gathered...from-from what  _ we’ve  _ gathered,” Harris gestured to the others sitting around him, “Doctor List’s notes and files have their experimenting start in October of 2015, six months after the Avenger’s attack on the HYDRA base in Sokovia. The project was active until, well,  _ now _ . So four years.”

“And List wasn’t the only one working on this project,” another researcher spoke up. He was a small, mousy man who appeared to be swallowed by his too-white lab coat. He nodded to the person operating the remote so that the overhead screen showed an old, black-and-white picture of Arnim Zola, wrapped so tightly in a parka only his small, ecstatic face showed. He stood beside the Valyrian podship, his hand placed possessively on the hull, while HYDRA soldiers dug the rest of the ship out of ice around him. 

“ Herr Johann Schmidt - Red Skull - found the pod in Iceland while searching for the Tesseract in November of 1941. He believed it to have come from Asgard, or at the very least another advanced alien race, that crash landed on Earth long ago.  Red Skull and Zola thought to weaponize it for Hitler, maybe use the Tesseract to enhance its power. Not much progress was made with the technology they had at the time and once Red Skull retrieved the Tesseract from  Tonsberg, Norway in March of 1942 , the project was diverted. Zola went back to it after Red Skull died, but only briefly before he....you know, Sergeant Barnes and the other Winter Soldiers.”

The scientist’s voice faded off with the cold look the crossed Natasha’s face whenever the program was mentioned. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, eyes down only to flicker to Harris in a silent plea to continue. 

“Uh,” Harris cleared his throat, nodding for the screen to switch to an image of an old warehouse. “Before Zola, um,  _ moved on _ , he was able to at least determine the pod was a cryostasis chamber. There was only so much information he could gain without being able to open it, so HYDRA put it back in storage.”

“Fun fact,” a young, yet overly anxious researcher piped up, holding up her pencil. “It was from his research on the Valyrian pod that Doctor Zola was about to build Sergeant Barnes’s cryo-chamber. Technically, the Sergeant would’ve died without Zola-”

“That’s enough of that now, dear, don’t you think?” With a snap, the young researcher’s mouth seemed to have disappeared. Loki spoke as the young woman fervently felt around her face for where her mouth had once been. “Continue, Doctor Harris. How did she come to be in Lists’s possession?”

All the researchers were staring in horror at the young girl - Tony, Bruce, and Helen included. Helen was rising out of her chair as Loki sighed and waved his hand to return the girl’s mouth. She opened it to scream, yet with another wave of his hand she was silenced. She quickly stood up and raced out of the room as the others looked on. 

“Doctor Harris, my patience is wearing thin. It would be in your best interest to continue.”

With that warning, Harris’s attention was brought back to the God seated at the conference table. The other researchers  kept their eyes cast down, sending Loki and the others furtive glances beneath their lashes. 

“ After Sokovia, List took control of all of Strucker’s HYDRA assets. He inspected an abandoned World War II HYDRA-Abteilung special weapons facility in the German mountains and found the pod with a box of Zola’s research.” Harris rushed out, gulping once he finished. “If Red Skull and Zola thought the pod would be a weapon, List was determined to capitalize on it. It took several months, but ...but he finally got into it.”

Another researcher stood up with a file folder. As he passed out the research team’s collective findings, his hands were shaking slightly as he walked past Loki. “Fair warning, Loki, I-I mean your Highness, sir-” he gulped, backing up once everyone had a packet of information. “T-the findings aren’t pretty.”

The first photograph upon opening the packet was that of a young girl in tattered clothing lying in the fetal position, much like how Tony and Bruce found her yet without the technological attachments. 

“List notes the girl - he names her  _ the Subject _ in his journals - was roughly fourteen years of age when the pod was opened. They punctured the hull enough to scale back pod’s cover; however the cryogenic stasis remained intact. More tests were done before they disengaged the stasis and woke up the child. When she awoke…. Well, there’s video.”

The researcher with the remote clicked it once again and a pristine white lab appeared. The camera was on a tripod allowing for the research team, List included, to remain on camera while standing around the open pod. They spoke German as they watched the young girl twitch, her muscles spasming from long absent use. When she finally did awake, she woke screaming. She bolted upright, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and wild as she frantically looked around her. The scientists backed away from the pod a step, whereas several HYDRA soldiers took a step forward and pulled their hands back to their hip holsters, resting their twitching hands there. When one scientist reached out - to calm or control, it was unclear - soft black wings shot out of her back at a startling speed.

She attempted to escape with a strong downthrust of her wings. She lifted herself from the confines of the pod and tried to fly away. She violently beat at the scientists and soldiers with her wings as they grabbed at her. One snuck behind her and aggressively pulled at the top curve of her wing. She screeched loud enough for the people closest to her to cover their ears. Almost like a knee-jerk reaction, the same wing shot out and smacked the man clear across the room. He hit the wall with enough force to leave behind bright red smears as he slid down, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

A few more soldiers came after her with more determination afterwards and they ended up the same - impaled on medical equipment or crushed against a wall. It wasn’t until one soldier emptied his tranquilizer gun into her chest and stomach that the girl fell from the ceiling onto the floor and her wings retracted.

No one moved towards her until List shoved a soldier at her. The man slowly crept forward until he stood over her. He nudged her with the toe of his boot. No response. He did it again, and still no response. He glanced over his shoulder at List and nodded his head. List walked over and kicked the child in the abdomen. Repeatedly. 

The conference room had steadily grown more chilly as the video progressed, yet now as the video cut off everyone’s breath blew out in small white puffs. Harris shot Loki a worried glance as he spoke, “They keep her sedated for several weeks as List evaluate her.” 

Harris nodded to the researcher and another video pulled up. This one showed the young girl lying on a metal slab in the center of a room filled with HYDRA scientists and soldiers. She was naked and unconscious, an IV line attached to her arm to keep her in that state. 

Whoever was manning the camera turned it away from the girl’s body as List approached the slab, pulling on light blue medical gloves. He wore a grey suit and standard white lab coat, silver glasses perched on the brim of his nose. 

_ “The Subject is roughly fourteen years of age in appearance; however, bone marrow and carbon-14 testing determines the Subject’s age to be nearly 5,000 years old. At this time, Earth was in the Bronze Age and writing had yet to be developed in Sumer and Egypt. Magnificent preservation thanks to the cryostasis chamber.” _

As List was less than ‘objectively’ running his hand along the girl’s body, Bruce turned away from the screen. He could feel the Big Guy wanting to break out only to break into List’s cell. Thor and Brunnhilde have been working on Hulk’s self control for months now, but the video was pushing his limits. Bruce needed to take his mind off the images for a few moments, just long enough for the green to recede.

“H-How old are you and Thor?” Bruce asked, breaking Loki out of his own anguished reviere watching the tape. The god’s own eyes were washed with red, blue-tinting brushing his skin. “I don’t think we’ve ever asked.”

“No, you have not.” Loki confirmed. He shifted in his seat, momentarily turning his attention away from List’s wandering hands. “Thor recently celebrated his 1,500 natal day. I was born shortly after the Battle  of Tønsberg in 965 A.D. and will be 1,054 this year. Our sister, Hela, whom I pray to the Norns you will never have the misfortune of meeting, is 3,000.”

“You had said Odin was newly crowned when Valyria was destroyed so he must be older than 5,000.” Natasha said. 

“Much,” Loki mused. His attention shifted back to the screen, letting the conversation drop.

_ “Let us begin,”  _ List spoke once more, the camera’s lens pulling away from the doctor’s hands to his face. _ “The Subject is humanoid in appearance except for the following alien characteristics.” _

The cameraman panned down to film List manhandling the child as he rattled off the anomalies HYDRA discovered in their extensive and invasive examinations. 

“The following is listed in your packets as well,” Harris briefly broke in, nodding to the papers that were handed out. As List spoke, the group followed the examination’s findings on paper without the visually ...unpleasant material.

List walked around the slab to stand at the top of her head.  _ “Hair - scalp, eyebrows, and otherwise - is naturally white.”  _ He turned the child’s head to the side and pulled her hair out of her face. _ “Ears are pointed, measuring  _ _ 2 1⁄2 inches from the inner-curve of the ear to the tip. Cartilage is thick, yet flexible. Standard movement.” _

He turned her face back to the center and tilted her head up slightly to open one eyelid.  _ “Eyes are abnormally pale purple. Normal pupillary reflexes, constriction and dilation to light.”  _ He closed her eyelids and opened her mouth. He pulled back her upper lip. _ “Slightly elongated front canines and first bicuspids. Sharp. It appears we have a bitter, gentlemen.” _

He pulled his index finger away from the girls mouth to wiggle his bandaged finger and chuckled as if sharing an inside joke amongst friends.  List picked up the child’s left hand and raised it for the camera.  _ “The Subject’s nails are slightly elongated, almond shaped, and naturally an opaque white color.”  _

He turned her palm upwards as he picked up a scalpel from the tray beside the metal slab. List gesture for the camera to zoom in. The image narrowed to film List slicing the palm of the girl’s hand. Out of the corner of Nat’s eye, she noticed Loki flinch. Tony could say the same about Bruce, except the good doctor’s breathing became more labored. List bent her fingers backwards to thrust out her palm, causing more blood to stream out. 

_ “As we can see, the Subject’s blood is black. Tests reveal the blood type is unknown and does not remotely match any of the four types. The blood is also neither RhD positive or negative. Circulation comes from a three- rather than four-chambered heart. Subject is also suspected to exhibit some form of cold-bloodedness; further testing is required.” _

List placed her hand back on the table without cleaning or wrapping it, simply allowing the child’s blood to continue to stream until it stops on its own. List called over two scientists to turn the girl on her side so that her back was visible to the camera. As one scientist held her shoulder, List leaned over the girl to run his fingers over her back. 

_ “Two vertical scars parallel to one another between the spine and each shoulder blade, raised and white. Approximately four inches in length. Suspected storage site of the Subject’s wings. Let us take a look, shall we?” _

List held out his hand once again for the scalpel. Someone off screen placed it in his palm. As he had done with the child’s hand, List sliced open the scar on her right shoulder. When nothing happened aside from a steady stream of black blood, List cut deeper into the scar into the muscle. The girl twitched in her drug induced coma, causing the staff and List to still momentarily, but she did not wake. List set aside the scalpel and pushed on the child’s shoulder blade as if to push out her wing. Again, nothing happened except more blood. 

List stepped away with a shake of his head,  _ tsking  _ softly underneath his breath. He gestured for the scientist holding the child on her side to step back. The man simply let her fall back to the metal table with a wet clang, blood spattering from impact onto the surrounding scientists’ formerly pristine lab coats. 

_ “Perhaps it is a  _ literal  _ ‘fight-or-flight’ response - or more accurately a ‘fight- _ and _ -flight’ response as it were. More tests will be required.” _

Harris’s assistant stopped the video and the screen went dark. “List goes on in a more,” Harris cleared his throat and fiddled with his tie clip before continuing, “ _ thorough _ examination. Those findings are also….in….your files….”

Natasha felt a stiff chill crawl up her left arm, raising the hairs on her arms. She turned to see Loki’s skin take on a more darker blue tint, the light catching the small ice crystals dotting his skin. A loud groan came from the opposite side of the table.

“Brucie,” Tony warned, moving his chair back as he swiveled to face the man slowly turning a more dangerous shade of green beside him. 

Bruce’s white-knuckled hands gripped the heavy wood of the table so forcefully is groaned beneath the strain. His head was tucked down, yet his rapidly moving shoulders betrayed his heavy breathing. As Tony reached his hand out to place it on Bruce’s shoulder, Bruce shot up to his feet and shoved Tony into Helen’s chair. Bruce ignored the researchers as they parted like the Red Sea for him. Loki provided a portal for him into the compound grounds before Bruce could get too far away. It would be faster this way and with considerably less mess should the Hulk makes his appearance known and come back to hunt down List within the Compound. 

All eyes turned to Loki. Everyone at the briefing was affected by the information in one way or another, but not to the noticeable extent that it appeared to affect Loki and Bruce. Loki took several breaths, closing his eyes, in an attempt to compose himself. When he opens his eyes again, they held a hint of red yet the blue hue of his skin had receded. 

“Just breathe,” Nat softly commanded, extending her pinky out enough to gently touch Loki’s fisted hands. She turned back to Harris, her voice more cold and neutral. “From this point on, Doctor, it would be best if you continued despite whatever interruptions that arise.”

“Yeah,” Tony chimed in, checking on Bruce through FRIDAY on his phone. “The Hulk doesn’t hold a grudge. Well, it won’t be against you anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired in part by Tilltheendwilliwrite’s “A World of Wings: ABO Fiction”. While I do take some artistic liberties, I based the Valyrian species mostly on the “Introduction”. 
> 
> Link to this incredible author - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite


End file.
